


A multitude of emotions

by Moonlight_is_magic



Category: South Park
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxiety, Bottom Craig, Cannabis, Cheating, Coma, Death, Drugs, Emotions, Fear, Gay, Gay Sex, Homophobia, M/M, Missing Persons, Murder, Near Death Experiences, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Teenagers, Temporary Character Death, Top Tweek Tweak, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, spookyfish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2020-10-12 05:41:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 123,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20559158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlight_is_magic/pseuds/Moonlight_is_magic
Summary: Yes Craig Tucker can feel. Unfortunately for him, having emotions and understanding them are two different concepts.Combine this with the strange way things have of happening in South Park; you’re left with a recipe for disaster. Unable to tell what’s real or not and scared of running out of time? Craig is learning that relationships can change in a blink of the eye.With enemies becoming friends, and friends turning to strangers, everything is messed up enough. Add in his missing boyfriend and the apparent existence of alternate realities. Oh and let’s not forget somehow becoming Kyle’s gay agony aunt. He feels like he’s losing his damn mind.





	1. Chapter 1

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I glance to the window; the cold air edging its way through the crack. I hate this, although to be fair if you asked majority of the people in this hellhole of a town they tell you that I hate everything. They’re wrong of of course, hate is merely one of the few emotions I allow people to see, and when I’m stuck seeing a fat arse like Eric Cartman on a near daily basis can you honestly blame me? Him I do hate. But in contradiction to popular opinion, I am capable of feeling a multitude of emotions not unlike other humans. I have friends and I mean sure, Clyde can be a fucking needy crybaby, and token is too smart for his own good, but there’s no hate in me for them; regardless of what I tell Clyde on a regular basis. I have Stripe, who although yeah he’s my pet, fuck it he’s one of my best friends too, and one who doesn’t judge or talk back. Family.. My sister Ruby, I don’t hate her.. my parents well I like my mum and I tolerate my dad.. maybe there’s a little hate there; but I think this is pretty standard, what 16-year-old boy doesn’t butt heads with his parents? To be more specific, what gay 16-year-old guy doesn’t have problems with his dad who ‘isn’t homphobic.. just wishes it wasn’t his son’, Yeah dad fuck off, newsflash that still makes you homophobic. And I guess that brings us to why I am here, about to climb out of the window and let the cold slap me in the face. Another sigh escapes my lips, followed by a small smile as I glance down at the mess of blonde hair spilling over the pillow. The blonde hair I regularly run my fingers through, normally in an attempt to calm the boy to whom it is attached. I bite my lip smiling as I watch him sleeping, he looks so calm. Which let me tell you is something of a miracle, Tweek never squirms when he sleeps, and I’m the only one that gets to see it. A beautiful moment of peace that only I am able to bring about. A larger smile tugs at the edge of my mouth and I lean down to graze my lips over his forehead ‘I love you..’ I let out breathlessly against the skin before pushing off the bed pulling on my chello and heading over to the window, gracefully slipping out and down the drain pipe to the ground, something I’m well practised in. And push my hands in my pockets as I start walking towards home, the blonde upstairs still consuming my mind, yes that’s right Craig Tucker can love. 

Love I’ve discovered is a stronger emotion than hate; as shown by the fact that although my father doesn’t accept my relationship it doesn’t stop me from sneaking out most nights to hold my boyfriend till he falls asleep; the only thing makes him sleep. Tweek Tweak doesn’t sleep, at least that’s what people say, but they also dismiss him as a spazz, and that shows how much they know. He can sleep through 10 alarms if you let him, it’s only falling asleep he has trouble with, and for some reason I make that easier. I’m not going to pretend I understand why, fuck I am not that special, but I learned a long time ago not to question the good things. The town is full of far too much doom and gloom, and too many ridiculous situations as it is. He’s too good for this town I think to myself for about the millionth time. ‘Too good for you’ A smaller voice that I’ve the last five months trying to silence echoes. Fuck it, even if it’s right he still chose me right? Just because I don’t understand why doesn’t mean he doesn’t like me, that’s what Token tells me. I sigh turning the corner onto my street kicking the snow by my feet, maybe only having one emotion would make life easier? Not that anything in life is easy anyway so that’s a stupid sentiment in itself. Glancing up at my house relief rushes through me, at least everyone is still asleep. 

I’d glide through my house silently and upstairs to my room before kicking off my shoes, pulling down my jeans before sliding into bed, all without waking any of the other occupants. A ritual I’ve become somewhat of an expert at. Glancing at my clock I grumble softly seeing it read 2AM, schools going to be a bitch tomorrow. Unlike most guys my age I like school, not something I ever vocalise; well except to Tweek. The classes are dull and the majority of the students irritate me. But it’s constant and mostly predictable ; two things I hold great value in. Unless of course that is Stan and those guys decide to fuck shit up. For the most part however it’s nice, I get to spend time with my friends and my boyfriend without my fathers disappointed stare over my shoulder. 

Closing my eyes as I relax back into my bed, I let the petite blonde invade my mind. Those perfect emerald orbs shining down at me, the crooked smile that I somehow manage to illicit from him. Damn I’m a lucky guy. Sure Tweek is different, lacks confidence and yes okay he’s twitchy. But none of that compares to how kind and genuine he is, other things I’ve learned are important to me. And maybe love is blind but I tell you now his twitching is fucking adorable. Moreover being around me with my fingers gently pawing through his hair actually works wonders in calming him down. We all have our super powers I think to myself before rolling over, studying his face in my mind before my body too gives way to sleep. 

My locker clicks open as I scan down the hall towards tweek’s locker, I guess he’s not here yet. “Craaaaaaaaiiig!” Clyde voice bellows as he runs towards me almost knocking me to the ground as he leaps at me arms open. I grunt as we both collide with the lockers and frown “get off of me idiot..” before pushing more upright and rolling my eyes as he pouts.  
“But Craig-“  
“No buts it’s early..”  
I tense slightly hearing an all too familiar snigger behind me, great fucking Cartman.  
“Surprised to hear you say no to butts fag..”  
my eyes roll again as I round on him in order to flip him off before turning back to Clyde to walk to class. That’s about all the energy I can muster for that fat ass this time of day. In all honesty I don’t know why it still entertains him. Yes I’m gay, and being referred to as a fag isn’t something I’d typically stand for. But Cartman isn’t worth the effort, he’d never change anyway and honestly I think he’d enjoy it more if I did react further. I have no desire to give him that satisfaction. 

Clyde’s general whining only just pierces my bubble as I watch the door from my seat. He’s always late, I know that, but I can’t relax till I know he’s here. Token slides in next to my poking me in the arm.  
“What is he on about this time?”  
The boy asks raising an eyebrow with a glance to Clyde, I take a breath and raise my own eyebrow in return.  
“What do you think?”  
“Bebe?”  
I nod curtly rolling my eyes “bingo..” before feeling a smile tug at the corner of my lips as the scent of coffee invades my nostrils, he’s here, I know before turning my head. Token gives me a knowing smirk as he notices, I flip him off in return, the smile dropping almost as fast as it formed and turn to wave the anxious boy over. While I try my best to keep a neutral expression, he does no such thing, a wide smile invading his face as he stumbles over, an anxious grunt escaping his lips. I feel my lips tug again at the corners and look down at my desk. I can feel, but I don’t need everyone knowing that. The three boys now surrounding me know and that’s good enough for me. 

Classes passed in a blur and before long lunch arrives and I’m sat under a tree with a mess of blonde hair running through my fingers, my boyfriends head resting in my lap as we chat absentmindedly with our friends. Months ago this was accompanied my gaping mouths and wide eyed stares from the other guys in my class, mostly now they’ve accepted it as the new normal. Cartman still gives us shit from time to time, but since Tweek broke his nose it’s subsided substantially. I smirk to myself reliving the day, having always thought it was funny to mess with Tweek the fatass had snuck up on him, attacking him with an assault of words— at least he’d tried. Like most others he’d underestimated the nervous boy, causing him to simultaneously squeal and spin to face him, arm flailing as he done so; making sharp contact with the other boys nose. Sure Tweek hadn’t intended to cause such damage, unlike me he tends to think before he acts. But this doesn’t diminish the satisfaction I felt witnessing it.  
“So what do you think Craig? You in?”  
“Huh?” I blink in confusion suddenly pulled from my thoughts “in what?”  
Token rolls his eyes smiling as Clyde groans pouting,  
“You never listen to me! Wendy is having a party and Bebe will be there!”  
My eyes roll almost audibly “I don’t do parties.. you know that-“ but I’m interrupted by a soft squeak from my lap, my eyes instantly leaving Clyde to focus on the boy below me an eyebrow cocking “you alright?”  
“Ngh! Ah I uhhh I said I’d go!” His cheeks are burning as he fights to avoid my gaze; a simple “oh” tumbling from my mouth. Clyde and Token exchange knowing smirks and I flip them off in return. We all know I’m going if Tweek is. 

My father doesn’t finish work till 7pm, this means 3 hours of Tweek in my room after school each day, my mother not seeming to care, or if she does not enough to act on it. That’s the more likely scenario, the Tucker family aren’t best known for making their emotions apparent. As per usual upon entering he immediately positions himself on the floor of Stripe’s cage grinning up at me, god that smile. His lips are scattered with small cuts, a mixture of his own anxiety and my need for dominance. A need for dominance that creeps into every fibre of my being, dominance is control and control makes things simple. But a large element of love is not having control, probably the main reason I fought it so long. Tweek however had pushed me relentlessly, calling me out on each insecurity one by one, I’d never seen him look so powerful. Never been so willing to let go of my own power; even if just so I could share in his. I return his grin with one of my own I can only assume was as goofy as his, and make my way over to sit next to him, one hand searching for his as the other works to scoop Stripe out of his cage. 

My head finds his shoulder as the small rodent scurries beneath us. Tweek’s eyes are wide watching him in amazement, I hum inwardly to myself considering the similarity of the two. Both unpredictable with crazy hair, both prone to squeaking, both unashamedly taking up the majority of my heart. Does that constitute me having a type? Sure I love them in completely different ways, I mean one isn’t human. Almost as if he can hear the cogs ticking in my brain Tweek trembles “w-we-don’t-have-to-go!” He squeals without breathing between words. Pulled from my thoughts it takes a moment for me to register what it is he’s referring too, my head leaving his shoulder as I look up at him “you want to go. We’re going.” I reply almost daring him to argue,  
“Ugh but you don’t wanna man! Which means it’s my fault if you have a bad night! Ngh! It’s too much pressure!’  
A small chuckle tumbles from my lips as I watch the conflicting emotions filling his face, a chuckle I wouldn’t have recognised this time last year. Panic, that’s ever prevalent; even around me, it’s there hiding in the back of his eyes, concern however appears to have taken the foreground this time. Unfamiliar heat rises through my cheeks as I lean to press a small kiss to his lips “I’ll be with you.. I’ll be happy..” it would appear I’ve said the right thing as I feel a smile against my lips. 

Those three hours as usual pass far too quickly, my room now filled with the smell of pubescent want and coffee, a mixture I’ve come to love. My father enters the house moments after Tweek left, a knowing state directed at me; but I don’t give him the chance to talk, to ruin the mood. Besides the taste of Tweek is still heavy in my mouth, and my stomach now I think about it; he doesn’t get to ruin this.

I return to my room and drop back onto my bed which suddenly feels far too empty and sigh. Before you think it no I’m not that guy, not the ‘oh come see my cute pet so I can get into your pants’ guy, that’s Stan’s gig not mine. It just so happens that Tweek has taken to Stripe in much the same way I have; hell I’d even consider him Stripe’s second dad. Moreover I’m not in a rush; I’d rather us continue as what Clyde likes to refer to as snail pace and savour in each moment as it arrives naturally. I’ve never overly understood the competition most teenage guys seem to take in aim of losing their V card. I figure it’s supposed to mean something right? I cant comprehend letting some random person seeing me in such an intimate situation. Hell I’ve been with Tweek almost 6 months and only in the last two weeks have ever of us ventured below the waistline; and till today only our hands have explored. My tongue darts to the corner of my mouth, a smirk filling my face as I remember his expression as I let my mouth take over. Eyes wider than I’d ever seen them as shock and excitement seemed to simultaneously grip him. It was sloppy, I mean hell I’d never done this before, and I gagged more than I feel I should have, but the stream that had filled my mouth at the end was enough for me to know my efforts were worthwhile. We exchanged ‘I love you’s’ after and upon seeing the time I’d let out a groan realising my own hard on would have to be ignored for now; but as he’d left in an unexpected moment of boldness he’d mentioned ‘paying me back next time’. I smirk to myself and ease myself from my pants finally as I relax back taking care of the current problem myself. 

Like most nights the walk home from Tweek’s is simple enough, it’s only a few streets after all. But unlike most nights tonight I feel more like I’m floating than walking, not even caring about the rain assaulting my face, damn who knew a mouth could feel so different to a hand I smirk to myself, once again turning onto my street. Unlike most nights however the lights are on in my house. The smirk leaves my face as quickly as it formed and a sense of dread washes through me, fuck, someone’s awake. I genuinely consider turning around, running back to where I’ve just come from. Fear, another emotion I like to pretend doesn’t exist in my repertoire, but it does; sure not for the assholes at school I can silence with a stare or if it comes to it a fist. But my father doesn’t work that way, sure he’s never hit me, I’m not scared of that. But he doesn’t need to, a talent of his being the ability to spit words with such venom that each one feels like a slap in itself. 

Taking a deep breath I push into my house, not bothering to be as silent as usual, already knowing it’s useless. He’s sat waiting, arms crossed and a deep scowl embedded in his face. I consider momentarily flipping him off and just heading for the stairs. But he’s standing now, a face like thunder; I’m nearly as tall as him now sure but he’s got a lot of pounds on me, and in this moment I feel about five foot.  
“Where the fuck have you been boy?!” Tumbles from his mouth in a low growl. Swallowing slightly I shrug “out..”  
“Out?! You stroll into my house as 3 in the morning and tell me you’ve been /out/?!” I grimace sighing; I knew he wouldn’t accept ‘out’ as and answer yet I still felt the need to test him.  
“I.. I was with Tweek..” I try again, knowing while this still isn’t what he wants to hear, he won’t stop till he believes me. 

This is the point at which in a cartoon steam would begin to pour from his ears, however all I get to witness is his skin flushing from white, to red then almost purple. “H-he just.. needed me..” I mutter my voice trailing off to barely a whisper.  
“You are 16 Craig! And you live under my roof! You do not sneak out at night to fuck some guy!”  
I manage to keep my eye roll inward somehow this time, knowing if I’d said a girls name his reaction would be far different.  
“I didn’t-“ I begin to protest before being cut off by more of his furious ramblings, and decide just to listen until he sends me to my room. Grounded of course, not that I plan on paying attention to that detail, I close my eyes as I lay back letting the pleasanter parts of the night take back over. Every essence of Tweek’s being invading my thoughts and assaulting my senses as I allow myself to drift off.


	2. Chapter 2

Over the course of the next few days school becomes something of a sanctuary. My fathers rage flows freely though the house, and his eyes seem constantly trained on me. So much so I haven’t even been able to sneak out once. This shit is getting old. 

I hate parties, dark rooms with flashing lights, music too loud to hear yourself think, pubescent angst and sweat invading your nostrils. And if you’re really lucky someone will vomit adding that into the mix, *cough* Stan *cough*. At least I can get drunk. I’m still grounded of course but fuck that, I just won’t go home, Token’s been sneaking alcohol out of his parents liquor cabinet for the past few weeks so that’s that covered. We’re all heading over straight from school. 

I sigh heavily resting my head to my desk, maybe five minutes later I hear him shriek, coffee scent filling the room; my head snapping round just in time to see him fall, the contents emptying itself on the floor.  
“Fucking spazz..” Cartmans voice echos from the back of the room.  
“Shut your fucking mouth fatass!” I growl pushing out of my seat to lead Tweek to his, ignoring Cartman’s further protests and flipping him off. 

Turning my head to study the blonde boy I frown a little noticing the dark bags outlining his eyes, and he’s shaking; more than usual that is. “Shit have you slept at all?” I whisper as he sits down  
“Ngh! Like twenty minutes!”  
He squeals back at me making my face fall. This is my fault. He needs me to sleep, I know that. I sigh softly reaching for his hand squeezing softly before running my fingers over the smooth skin in circles “I’m sorry.. you have me tonight..” I offer him a small smile that he readily returns, all be it accompanied by a slight twitch. 

Lunch today is simultaneously louder and quieter than usual. Quieter due to the fact my hands have worked their magic in my boyfriends hair causing him to nap, head on my lap. A smile tugs at my lips as I study his perfect bone structure, momentarily pulled from the reason it’s also louder. 

A buzz of excitement hangs in the air, at least so I’m told. The kids in our year are all talking about the party, Clyde and Token being no exception. I glance away from the vision below and look to my friends somewhat bewildered. Excitement.. I mull the word over in my brain. I guess I missed the memo? Why is this exciting? Which leads me to a further thought, when was I last excited? Racking my brain I realise; only ever with Tweek. 

“So what are you wearing later man?”  
Clyde grins, not pausing for an answer before going into an over detailed spew about his own ensemble. My eyes roll as I watch him, waiting, and after what feels like an eternity his stare lands back on me expectantly. I shrug in response motioning down to the clothes I have on. He gasps; actually fucking gasps. “I wasn’t aware I looked that bad.” I state rather than question. Token sighs shaking his head.  
“You don’t.. just not exactly party ready, it’s fine we can stop at yours and pick something up-“

I cut him off with a shake of my head explaining the grounded situation. Unease creeping through me as I watch the other boys exchange glances as I tell them why. My stare trained on them, I don’t get it, it’s almost as if they’re having a conversation with facial expressions alone. I wonder if this is what it’s like to be deaf? Watching an entire conversation seemingly take place that you can’t even begin to comprehend. Tokens eyebrows wiggle at clyde slightly before new excitement seems to flood through his every pore.  
“You guys finally did the mattress mambo?!”  
He squeals. And as if my body decided to betray me, momentarily my eyes widen and I feel heat flare on my cheeks as my jaw drops fractionally. Token and Clyde’s eyes are alive studying my face, in a second my own eyes glaze over, hardening; my usual composure returning with a scowl “no.” Clyde’s face falls instantly to a pout, Token laughing at him.  
“Man clyde is more excited for you to get laid than you are..”  
I flip him off in return rolling my eyes, but the words don’t sit well with me. They settle inside me, clawing at my brain, because they’re right.. fuck what’s wrong with me?  
“But Craaaaaaig” clyde whines up at me “you’re the last one.. and the only one in a relationship..”  
“Token’s dating Wendy..” I fire back causing the other boy to chuckle shaking his head.  
“We’ve been on two dates man..”  
I simply shrug in return before narrowing my eyes back in on Clyde; my stare telling him to drop the subject. Or it least it should be; but this is Clyde we are talking about. So instead of taking the hint he continues firing questions. 

Frustration is flowing through me; I’m unsure if it’s because of my best friends unrelenting stupidity and inability to read a situation, or the heat spreading throughout my body, all thoughts of composure gone by this point. Or.. is it embarrassment? I ponder that for a second, then dismiss the idea as quickly as it came. My hands balling into fists as I allow the frustration to take back over. However in that moment I had forgotten one of my hands was occupied, meaning my balled fist resulted in some hair pulling. 

I grimace slightly feeling guilty, usually I’m not one to care if my frustration gets taken out on other people; this extends even to Clyde and Token.. mostly Clyde. But not Tweek, never Tweek. He’s too good, too pure, too mother-fucking perfect. It’s my job to protect him, like a shield to a flame. Aiding him in the ever present adversities this world provides. He needs me to; he needs /me/.

My eyes dart down, teeth pulling at my lip as I loosen my fingers, in the same moment a moan falls from his lips. The heat is back, fuck the heat is everywhere, that little flame has set my whole body on fire, and it’s spreading if the muffled exchanges and laughs from my friends are anything to go by. But I’m paralysed, he is all I can see. The small blob of saliva forming at the edge of his slightly agape mouth. He still fascinates me; and only in moments of stillness like these can I take in his whole. People talk about butterflies in their stomach? I’ve never felt that; but with Tweek? Shit there’s a whole stampede in there ready to take me down like Mufassa in the Lion King. 

It’s too much, it’s too public, it’s too much. It’s obvious I’m sure of it, my feelings are written all over my face, they can see them and I need them not to. I lean down pressing my lips to Tweek’s, harder than I should have and yelp in time with the other boy as his teeth clamp down on my lips. I should know better than to surprise him by now. His eyes widen and cheeks flush, teeth unclenching as he sees it’s me.  
“Ngh! Fuck! Don’t surprise me like that man! I can’t take it!”  
I am such an idiot. Why did I do it? Hell if I know, why do I do anything? Tweek does things to me though, things I guess I don’t totally understand. Slightly deflated I sigh avoiding his eyes, “I’m sorry..”  
Theres no hardness to his face, his hand reaching to turn my face back to his, leaning up to softly kiss my still slightly throbbing lips.  
“You don’t have to be sorry! Ngh! Did I hurt you?!”  
I shake my head in return but give no answer as Clyde cuts back in,  
“I dunno man.. I think he’d be up for it..”  
Tweek’s brow furrows in confusion as I snap my head round to glare at the boy flipping him off. This time he knows to shut up.


	3. Chapter 3

Although he’d been confused Tweek hadn’t pushed further. The dark cloud hanging over me was evident, enough so that even Clyde had turned back to Token, dropping the subject and launching into his ‘fool proof plan’ to get Bebe to notice him tonight. I didn’t care.

I’d wanted to get up and run; but Tweek like an anchor managed to reposition himself behind me, holding me rooted in place. I’d tensed, trapped, until his fingertips made contact with my back. Electricity pulsing through me at the contact I focused in on the familiar patterns of lines and dots, naming them in my head. Shapes formed in my mind as my eyes slipped closed. I could see the night sky in my mind, hear my own monotone nasal voice explaining what we were seeing to the boy on the blanket next to me. 

I hadn’t even been sure he was interested at the time, more just humouring me. But he learnt them. Every fucking one. Somehow he also learned to use them, against me? For me? Who knows, either way he’d figured out a way to calm me down. See I told you everyone has superpowers. 

Clyde grins almost skipping around Token’s room as he refills our drinks.  
“Drink up guys! You know it’s more fun drunk.”  
Token chuckles nodding a little sipping his drink, I watch Tweek study his cup, nibbling on his lip before squealing and draining the whole thing. I sigh inwardly and shake my head “I can’t.. Tweek is and he’ll need me to—“ I stop mid sentence swapping my glance to the blondes hand, reached out to squeeze my arm,  
“I-it’s fine! We can both drink.”  
My gaze travels from his arm to face; taking in every inch in between. Our eyes meet, mine searching his for.. unease? I’m not sure, either way the smile twitching at his lips gave me my answer and I swallowed “oh” and offered my own smile back, not quite reaching my eyes, as I sip my drink. 

Unease creeps through me instead; I’m not doubting his ability to handle himself. Just, the idea of anything happening to him and me being unable to do anything? Well it fucking sucks. I’m pretty sure I’d never forgive myself. I suppose it’s actually pretty humorous that for a change I’m the one worrying about possibilities, but I don’t feel like laughing. I swallow down the rest of my drink with a sigh, Clyde not even giving me a chance to protest before refilling my cup. I don’t care, I wasn’t going to anyway. 

I didn’t count my drinks; all I know is I’ve had enough that I’m not completely in control anymore. My head is fuzzy and I keep fucking smiling. Hell, it’s not my fault everything he does is so fucking adorable. Climbing out of the taxi after him I wrap my arm around him, pulling him firmly against me, kissing his temple causing a small giggle to tumble from his lips. This is heaven. 

Of course to assume heaven exists is to assume that Hell also does. Something the universe sees fit to remind me, if I could figure out how I’d flip the whole fucking universe off at this point.  
“C-Craig?”  
The voice of none other than Kyle Broflovski cuts through from the left. I turn my head equally confused and annoyed and stop in place. Clyde seemingly deciding he’s out hooks his arm through Tweek’s, pulling him away from me and inside. This of course causing the smaller boy to squeal in surprise at the fluid motion. Okay I’m not confused anymore. I’m pissed. 

“What do you want?” I growl, smirking at his slight flinch. Its only at this moment I realise at least Token stayed with me, his eyes narrow at me as if to tell me to be nice, before trying again more tactfully.  
“Hey Kyle, you okay?”  
My eyes roll as I cross my arms already bored. Kyle on the other hand appears to be having what I can only assume is some sort of personal crisis. Maybe I’m not that bored; his cheeks almost match his hair.  
“H-how did you know you were gay?” He almost whispers.  
My eyes bulge as my jaw clenches. That is not his business; what the fuck? Does he realise who I am? Why would I tell him? 

Alcohol has the effect on me of narrowing in on whichever emotion is currently strongest. I don’t know if it’s just me it has this effect on or everyone, and I don’t care. All I know is I’m pissed. My glare narrows in on him, heat rising through my body, my fists balling at my sides “well having my boyfriends cock balls deep in my throat kinda gave it away..” I snarl challengingly. It works, somehow he’s reder than ever and frantically looking anywhere but at me. Perfect, I smirk. 

The smirk falls almost as instantly as it formed though as Token’s palm makes contact with the back of my head. That bitch just slapped me. My head snaps to him a frown etched in my brow. But he’s not scared of me; his eyes narrow in on mine, actually challenging me. “The fuck man?” I grunt up at him, his eyes roll only increasing my annoyance, ignoring me as he turns back to Kyle.  
“Sorry about this ass, he’ll answer properly now won’t you Craig?”  
Won’t I? Who the.. okay I’m lost. My mind is fuzzy from alcohol. Clearly I’m missing a key detail here, Token’s my friend right? “why should I?” I manage to grumble looking down causing him to let out a heavy sigh.  
“Because dipshit, Kyle is clearly struggling with something, and you’re one of the only people we know who’s been through it. Besides if he’s asking you he’s gotta be pretty desperate.”  
My eyes meet his again and I frown flipping him off. I also think about what he said. Why does he always have to make so much sense; Clyde would’ve laughed at my reply and led me inside.

This is Token we are talking about though, Token know it all Black; so he’s probably right. Kyle is hovering nervously, looking to me somewhat expectantly as he chews at his bottom lip. I groan running my hand down my face as I rack brain. How did I know? Memories play in my mind as I sort through them into maybe and no. My brow is furrowed again; this time in confusion. I let out a frustrated sigh and shrug, everything starts and ends with the same thing, “Tweek..”  
This appears to be neither the answer Kyle was looking for, or one Token’s stare would suggest he finds acceptable. I meet his gaze sighing, stopping him before he can speak, “it’s the only answer I have. But hell if you’re coming to me?” I turn my head back to Kyle to catch his eyes “I’d say you already know.”

Taking a leaf out of Clyde’s book I decide that now I too am out. This whole conversation was enough, too much. I turn pushing past the blushing mess that is Kyle, huffing in annoyance both at having been approached, flustered and separated from Tweek; I hope he’s okay. 

My senses hit overdrive the moment I cross the threshold; every inch of my being telling me to leave. But I grit my teeth pushing it aside, my eyes searching the crowds of people for the one reason I’m here. The shining light, the heaven, hidden in the darkness somewhere within this new personal hell of mine. 

A door swings open to my right and my head snaps round in time to see Heidi Turner, complete with sex hair pushing out of a bathroom. Momentarily distracted from my task I raise an eyebrow observing, blinking slightly in shock as none other than Stan Marsh follows her out. Who else? I grimace at the thought of him circling the girls in our year, hell he must be running out by now. How anyone can screw around like that I’ll never understand. And an afterthought only adding to the feeling of disgust building in my gut; shit and in his ex’s house.

Shaking my head feeling dirty even to have witnessed it I continue through the house refocused on my task. Making my way into the kitchen I pause, a smile transforming my face as I witness Clyde and Tweek laughing as they take shots. The music is running through my veins as the fuzz of alcohol easily transforms my mood. Sliding up behind him, pulling his body close to mine as I drink in the coconut scent emitting from his hair, “there you are.” The alcohol has taken effect on him too I note as he leans back into me relaxed. Cupping his chin I turn his head back and lean down to kiss him softly, forgetting Clyde and losing myself in the moment. Until that is he pushes his way in,  
“What was that about?”  
I break the kiss with a small groan looking to him “What was what about?” The way he’s looking at me now would suggest I’d grown another head, so I sigh thinking back to the conversation I had outside and blink shrugging “oh, Kyle’s gay.” 

Both Tweek And Clyde’s eyes widen, mouths opening as if they’re about to question further. However at this moment Token arrives behind me; greeting me with another slap to the back of my head.  
“Craig you ass don’t tell people that.. Jesus I thought you of all people would realise it isn’t your place..”  
I see red, twice, this mother fucker has hit me twice now! “I swear to god hit me one more time man!” I growl turning to him before feeling Tweek’s fingers make contact with my back; familiar shapes forming, my eyes slipping closed, mind focusing in on them. Pushing emotion from my mind as I lose myself in them, he always starts the same; Big Dipper. This time I lean back to him with a heavy sigh; anger depleted just like that. Token is right of course, and Clyde has a big mouth. But it’s too late now, I’ve said it, “I fucked up. My bad.” Is all I can offer. Able to read me like a book, honestly this guy knows me better than I know myself I’d swear, Tweek realises I feel guilty. By now he also knows the best way to make me feel better is for me to focus in on him. So he reaches for my hand, announcing we’re going to dance. For once I don’t protest; I trust him and let him lead me away. 

To call what we were doing ‘dancing’ was a stretch at best. Someone once said to dance like no one is watching, well we did; and if anyone was watching I’m pretty sure it looked like we were being attacked by bees. But none of that matters; in this moment everyone and everything else has dissolved. There is only him and I. The songs change, people push past, we both stumble slightly more than once. Yet we remain in a collective bubble lost in each other, constant. The concept of time non existent within it I couldn’t tell you how long we’d been pressed together, moving with the beat. But when his voice broke the barrier whispers filling my ears, the only word registering being “upstairs”, I knew that however much I was enjoying this bubble; that was an even better offer and simply nodded in return. My hand tangling in his as I turned pulling him from the makeshift dance floor with me. 

We enter the room, clicking the door locked behind us. I take a breath looking over the contents; well bed and bedside table, clearly this is a guest room. I lean back against the door as I focus my eyes on the boy in front of me. If I didn’t know better I’d presume that it was beer goggles responsible for the vision of breathtaking beauty i have the privilege to behold. But no, this was real; a constant in this ever changing world. Tweek Tweak is fucking perfect. I close my eyes, head resting back against the door smiling widely. It’s not going to be like before; I’m ready. 

But doubt riles up from deep within me; shit why did I think about last time? Now I can’t stop. 

In any other circumstance I’m the strong one. Anyone would tell you that, I’m tough with an impenetrable aura, Tweek is soft and wears his heart on his sleeve. But in this moment everything feels backwards. It’s as if he eased off his worries and insecurities with his clothes. He’s fucking glowing. And my clothes are coming off now, but it’s having the opposite effect. Each piece that comes off is taring the bubble I surround myself with. Confidence removed later by later. He’s like a predator ready to diminish his prey and I feel very much like a deer in the headlights. No one has ever seen this much of me and a familiar loathed emotion is spreading. Embarrassment, ugh I both love and hate this one. I’m in my element when I’m the one causing it, but I don’t do well with feeling it. 

His eyes furrow as he tries to meet my gaze, a task made harder by the fact I’m actively avoiding his. My cheeks are burning, and shit am I shaking?  
“Craig..” he purrs “it’s me..”  
his voice pulls me back to focus, there is a hot naked guy in my bed, /my/ hot naked guy. I crash my lips to his trying to force the feeling to subside, I want to lose myself in him. 

But he breaks the kiss looking down at me, chewing on his lip and sighing softly as he forces me to meet his eyes. And god the way he looks at me, I’d swear he sees into my soul.  
“You aren’t ready?”  
He questions tentatively, but I can’t talk right now, I think if I do I’ll cry. How do I begin to explain that I both want this more than anything; but am terrified? So I shake my head slightly, he nods quickly in return, his lips once again meeting mine; but softer this time.  
“You want your shirt?”  
My turn to nod as the kiss breaks and I reach for it pulling it on quickly before looking back to his naked frame. 

I’m pulled from this hearing a moan escape my body as I feel his mouth on my neck.


	4. Chapter 4

Heat fills my cheeks in realisation as my hands tangle in his hair, pulling his head back some so I can meet his lips with my own. My tongue brushes over his lips and they open, his meeting mine eagerly as they move together in a seemingly synchronised dance. His moan enters through my mouth sending trembles down my body, reluctantly I break the kiss grinning down at him and take a breath “I’m ready.”

Startled at the loss of sensation he blinks up at me, I can see his brain working to make sense of my words. Realisation hits him and I smirk watching the blush and smile creeping it’s way into his face in response. But it doesn’t last and suddenly he looks panicked.  
“O-oh god, we can’t, w-we don’t have any stuff Ngh!”  
It’s my time to blink; I’m confused until I catch his meaning and groan. Oh fuck he’s right. But no; he doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to be here. Chewing on his lip he studies my face trying to gage my reaction. I simply shrug reaching for his hand as I unlock the door again “then we’re going to yours.”

Much to my delight he hadn’t protested. My body humming in anticipation I’d swear we’d glided through the house and outside. Connected by interlocked hands minds focused on what was to come. Too focused, too connected; a stumble and we both went over. But nothing can spoil this, side by side on the floor, our eyes finding each other’s we simply laugh, pick ourselves up and continue our journey. 

Entering his room I instinctively kick off my shoes, noticing him doing the same as I turn to face him. The distance between us soon diminishes as our bodies pull back together like magnets. Mouths connecting as hands roam; I barely noticed I’ve been backed up to the bed until I fall back on it. Unwilling to let him go he follows me down, somehow I manage to remove his shirt in the process. 

Time is a strange concept. And one that is only used by humans. Each of us able to at any point tell you a time, month, year. Interestingly this doesn’t actually apply to the rest of the world around us. It’s been six months since I first kissed him. Two weeks since I saw first him naked. Two days since I first tasted him. One day since I convinced myself I was fine waiting. But alone in his room with him here in front of me, looking like that? Fuck waiting. 

A Cheshire Cat like grin morphs my face as I look up at him, fingertips edging forward, the moan he lets out as I make contact has me hard already. A slight question on his face is answered with a nod from me before my shirt too comes off and is thrown god knows where, I don’t care. 

Our lips meet again but my hands are still moving, it’s not enough; I want him naked. The kiss breaks as he studies my face again; I know he’s looking for any doubt, and I in turn muster the most determined look I can “I’m ready Tweek.”

Any uncertainty has left and the air is thick with anticipation as we help each other remove the rest of our clothes, tossing them aside to litter his floor. Our mouths reclaim each other as his weight presses down on me, chest pressed to chest, groin to groin. And holy fuck there is electricity pulsing through me, I moan into his mouth giving his tongue dominance in the process. His body fits against mine like a glove and in this moment I don’t need power or control, he has enough for both of us. 

Nipping at my tongue he lets out a moan to match mine and my hips roll up involuntarily in response. The kiss breaks and our eyes meet, both exchanging the slightest of blushes along with smiles. This is real. His erection pushes down against mine as he leans to the bedside table, the bottle we’d been lacking earlier finally appearing. My legs part slightly beneath him in anticipation as his eyes land back on mine. 

Eyes locked, reading the moment, I realise that maybe there is one person I can have a conversation with without words. In that moment our positions had been decided without any discussion; his lips once again find mine as his now slick hand reaches down, tracing over my cock teasingly before bypassing it. My legs spread more as his fingers find what there looking for, rubbing in circles slowly as they transfer the slickness to me instead. 

My head falls back and my eyes squeeze closed knowing full well he can see every little thing he’s doing to me. Moans are tumbling from my lips now, sounds of pure need spurred on by his movements, one, no now two fingers entering, curling, rocking then removed. 

A whine I don’t recognise tumbles out of me, my eyes snapping back to him as I feel his fingers leave. A smirk tugs at his lips as he watches me,  
“Y-you okay there?”  
Heat rises slightly on my cheeks, but this isn’t like last time, I nod. Fuck I pout slightly “Tweek.. I need you..”  
That evidently was all he needed and in a swift movement he’s between my now lifted legs positioning himself. Our eyes remained locked as he pushes inside me, slowly, for a few inches anyway. I break the gaze first, fists balling in the sheets as I let out a pained groan. Fuck this hurts, but it also feels better than anything else I can remember having ever felt. He pauses recapturing my lips, softer this time. Minutes? Pass and my breath returns to normal against his lips, I give a small nod as the pressure subsides some. With that he pushes the rest of the way in; I’m lost. Our bodies begin moving in time; it’s hard to believe they haven’t always been doing this. Moans deepen along with thrusts and eventually he’s panting, a stifled cry tumbling from his lips as I feel him release inside, his weight giving way as he collapses down to me. My mouth instantly reconnecting with his. 

Still on my own high I allow him to come down from his. My hands taking a turn at drawing shapes on his back for a change, his lips peppering kisses along my collarbone now. Letting my eyes slip shut once again I focus on the feeling; all too soon realising he isn’t done. His lips are travelling lower now, a soft groan escapes me as he pulls out of me; leaving me feeling, though not completely, empty. I allow my eyes to reopen, looking down in time to watch his mouth cover me, another moan tumbling as my hips press up again. His head is bobbing up and down and I’m coming undone, not long before my own cry cuts through the air as I implode in his mouth. 

All concept of time has left us now; we don’t need it. Limbs entwined as our fingers trace each other’s skin; I couldn’t tell you how long we’ve been here. Loud knocking breaks the moment and I groan as his lips leave mine, my eyes darting to his clock. Who the fuck knocks on a door at 2am? Tweek is already out of bed though, slight panicked noises escaping his mouth as he moves to pull on his boxers, and without realising it my shirt. I push up, grimacing a little before repositioning myself; smirking as I watch him. It’s too big, but it still looks better on him. The knocks come again louder causing him to jump head snapping round to the door as I frown.  
“Ngh! Ahh I have to get that.”  
I nod starting to push my way out of bed, but he’s already left the room. I stand with a sigh, attempting to figure out a way to stretch without it hurting. 

But the door is open now; an all too familiar voice travelling through the house in bellows. My eyes are the size of the moon as I dive to the ground frantically searching for my clothes. Managing to pull on my boxers I curse slightly remembering he’s wearing my shirt, shit. But the heavy footsteps have already ascended the stairs and are nearing the door. I’m shit out of time; gaping at the doorway as my fathers frame fills it. 

Tonight was so perfect; more than I could ever have hoped. But his eyes are narrowed as he takes in the sight before him. Standing again now; here I am, his only son, near enough naked surrounded by discarded clothes. Jesus fucking Christ there’s still a bottle of lube on the bedside table. My mouth opens as if to speak but nothing comes out. 

Unfortunately for me this effect is one sided and the endless stream of profanities tumbling from his mouth as he closes the distance between us cut through the silence. His grip on my arm is firm, more than firm; it’ll probably leave bruises. His eyes are narrowed, saliva leaving his mouth as insults fire out. At any other time I’m sure I’d have paused to note how disgusting this was. But it’s as if my brain hasn’t caught up yet, or I’m running on panic alone. Tweek’s nervous frame is in the doorway; and possibly the first time he’s truly needed me to do something I fucking can’t. 

His nails dig in as he starts to pull me from the room, Tweek can’t get out of the doorway fast enough. My eyes reach his and with all my might I hope he can read how sorry I am. But the contact is broken too soon as I realise I’m now traveling downstairs. Wait.. he’s taking me home like this? Fresh panic floods me, sure is gone 2AM.. but I’m nearly naked. Anyone could see me. Finally I manage to make a sound of protest, immediately however I’m cut off by his stare. This isn’t up for discussion. This is happening. 

I’m undecided on wether the walk home was entirely too long, made worse by my lack of both shoes and clothes. Or too short as no matter how bad this was, my brain is adamant it can only get worse. Either way I know that this is the first time seeing my own home as made me feel quite so at unease. I feel very much like I’m a hostage to the man towering above me as we enter. 

His words are firing at me like venom, I’m not sure I’ve ever been this angry. Ever hated him this much. I’m pretty sure this feeling is mutual.  
“You’re grounded Craig! Do you understand what that means? What have I said about sneaking out to fuck some guy. We can sit here all night if we have to boy?!”  
You know what? Fuck it. How much worse can it really get now? Game on old man. My scowl deepens as I force my eyes to meet his “maybe you can sit here all night dad but I can’t sit at all right now!” He’s blinking, Jesus he still doesn’t fucking get it; okay I’ll carry on. My fists ball at my sides matching his “and he isn’t some guy! Tweek is my boyfriend, and he’s rather fucking beautiful; so actually I was letting him nail me! There! Satisfied?!” But he’s caught up now, and not for the first time I realise why most people think before they speak. 

His face has contorted; this isn’t my father anymore. Not the guy that helped teach me to ride a bike, not the man willing to let my little sister braid his hair. He’s a bomb and I’ve just typed in the code to detonate. Evil wearing a mask of my dads face; I want to run. Regardless of my lack of clothes, or any further consequences, my brain is searching for ways to put as much distance between us as physically possible. That moment I make my decision and jolt to the door. But rage doesn’t tend to allow much space for thought, and whilst I was weighing up my options he’d already made a decision. My fingertips merely graze the door handle before his fist meets my face; instead of running for freedom I’m falling to the floor; a scream I don’t recognise tumbling from my own lips. 

It’s impressive really how one fluid motion seems to ignite my whole house. My sister is on the stairs starting to sob. My mother appears from the kitchen looking like she’s trying to establish what has just happened. Fuck that hurt. My now throbbing head turns back to my father, because no fucking way am I letting him get another hit in. He may tower in size but I make up for them with speed. But everything is different now. He’s my father again and I can see in his face he already regrets what he’s done. He won’t apologise though; he doesn’t do that. Instead he turns his head slightly, no longer able to meet my gaze and storms out. My mother seemingly having caught up, Hell what gave it away mom? The shouting or my now swollen eye? Leaves too, following after him. Her own shouts now fading into the distance as she follows him to fuck knows where. 

There’s a lump forming in my throat, in this moment I’d give anything to be Ruby’s age, balling my eyes out without a care in the world who saw. But no, that’s not me. And there’s no time for that right now. I need to not be here and that requires both me having clothes and figuring out what the hell to do with my sister. Pushing up from the floor with several groans I slowly make my way up the stairs towards her “pack a bag” I almost command before carrying on to my room and pulling on the first clothes I can find. 

My mind is working overdrive; in what I can only assume is a bid to protect my sanity, it’s pushing away my emotions to focus in on practicality. Dressed now I return to Ruby. Why the hell shes suddenly my responsibility I have no idea. And I can’t do that right now so she needs to be someone else’s. My mind settles reluctantly on Kenny McCormick. His sister Karen is the same age as Ruby, and unlike me and the boy they’re friends. Moreover I actually know where he lives. Fuck he better be back from the party. My hand reaches for my still crying sisters as I lead her from the house. 

The walk is tedious and silent. Silent that is other than the small sobs dropping from her mouth every now and then. Enabling myself to focus on them seems to be keeping my own which, are building inside, at bay. I glance to the door and sigh turning instead to knock lightly on what I know to be Kenny’s bedroom window. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not one for religion. But in that moment I silently pray to God, Jesus, Allah, fuck any and all of the Hindi gods; that he’s home. I finally cut a break as the window slides open. 

Damn I can see his face; guess he doesn’t sleep in that orange parker. But he can also see mine, blackening eye and all, and the look on his face that had started as mild annoyance is shifting. Is that concern? Fuck it I don’t have time for this. He opens his mouth to speak but I quickly cut him off gesturing to Ruby beside me; her sobs having calmed some to a whimper. In the least explanatory way I can manage I convince him to take her and pass her through the window to him before turning on my heels and leaving. 

The sky is dark and heavy, a low rumble starting to echo around me. My feelings are bubbling up and escaping. I can’t tell you if the drips begin in my eyes or the sky, regardless they’re falling in unison now. My hands push into my pockets as I weigh up my options. It’s at this moment I realise I no longer have either my phone nor wallet. The obvious choice; the one my brain screams for me to take is to return to Tweek. But I can’t. The fear had taken complete control of his eyes as I’d left. And although I’d pretty sure my father is done, if he isn’t that’s the first place he’d go. 

Trying to choke back a sob I weigh up the remaining options. Token or Clyde. Token is practical; he’d probably know what to say more so than Clyde. But he’s also more likely to suggest I tell someone and no fucking way. In a town like this that sort of news may as well be on the front page of tomorrow’s papers. Moreover he’s probably stayed at Wendy’s. Without thinking too much more on it I turn, barely having to think as my legs carry me to Clyde’s. 

I’m not sure how long I stand outside, the wind is howling around me; rain turned to sleet, sleet to hail. The night sky is alive and sharing in my torment. That or my emotions have actually spilled out of me in order to allow it to join me. Fingertips dig down into the wet earth as I pick up a stone, taking a breath before sending it hurtling towards my best friends window. 

My eyes sting from crying; one still throbbing simultaneously. It’s cold now and the hail is growing in size, pelting me unrelentingly. Everything hurts. I don’t notice his face at the window as my arms wrap around myself a sob slipping out. But minutes later he’s in front of me, wrapping a blanket around my shoulder as he leads me inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Clyde Donovan is something of an enigma to me. More than once I’ve thought to myself that the friendship which exists between us shouldn’t work. Hell we are essentially the antithesis of each other. He’s bubbly and radiates warmth, I on the other hand am known for my cold stares. I suppose I’m pretty lucky that despite my shell like exterior, the boy had latched onto me the first day we met. Over the years he seems to have learnt how I work, I’ve tried to do the same. 

My best friend has at some point perfected the art of chipping away at my shell. Clawed his way inside and set up camp. He knows I don’t offer up information about myself freely; and instead has found ways to get me to spill details; at times ones I had no intention of doing so with. Hell the boy knows more about me than Token does anyway. I wonder if he’s realised yet how I got this black eye? Of course none of this means I’m planning on opening up tonight. He can guess. 

Clyde’s house unlike mine is usually filled with silence. His father normally stowed away in his office; eyes trained to his computer. Having been friends as long as we have I can remember back to the days when baking smells would invade your nostrils the moment you entered. Since his mother died however the house became just that, a house rather than a home. The two men occupying it seemingly unable to recreate the previous more inviting aura themselves. 

Not for the first time I wish I could trade my father in to get his mother back. Sure she’d got on at him a lot and called him out on his shit. But hell he needs it, and somehow that job now seems to fall on Token and I rather than his father. The months after she’d gone I spent most of my time in this house, as such his father now regards me as part of the furniture. So at least I don’t have to worry about him caring I’m here. If he were to notice at all that is. Nowadays however her photos are disappearing from the walls. But I know there’s still one in his room. 

I lean into him; allowing him to lead me inside and up to his room. Moving away from me momentarily to pull some of his own clothes out and setting them on the bed for me. Looking me over chewing his lip.  
“Man you’re soaked..”  
I don’t care. But he does.  
“Craig seriously.. either get changed yourself or I’m going to undress you.”  
My eyes narrow on him; but I can’t hold it, I let the blanket hit the floor nodding.  
“Good, I’ll be right back.”  
I wait for him to leave before changing as quickly as I can; not wanting to risk him coming back and catching me as I do. His clothes hang loose on me but I already feel warmer than before. A pretty small comfort at this point; but better than nothing. He returns not long later, a bag of frozen peas in hand. Scratching at the back of his head somewhat awkwardly.  
“Uhh, for your eye. It’ll help the swelling.”  
Generally I wouldn’t trust Clyde’s advice, but over the years he too has taken his share of punches. I take the bag pressing it to my throbbing face letting out a groan of pain. Sighing I drop back on his bed as he takes a seat at his desk. He’s staring, even not looking at him I can feel it, my body bracing itself for the questions he surely has. 

For once though it seems that he knows not to ask; that I wouldn’t answer him if he did. So instead he narrows in on what I can only assume had been on his mind before I’d arrived.  
“So.. you really think Kyle’s gay?”  
I don’t answer straight away. There’s a struggle in my brain. I don’t want to be having this conversation. But equally I need to not be thinking about my current predicament. I let out a heavy sigh and meet his eyes answering honestly. “Yes. He is.”  
Clyde of course believes wholeheartedly in the concept of ‘gaydar’ so immediately takes my word for it.  
“Wow.. hey you think he’s with someone then?”  
This time I shake my head, “No, if he was he wouldn’t be questioning it..”  
Clyde is nodding along with me now; he looks like a fucking excited puppy.  
“Right.. right, so.. he likes someone?”  
Well he got there in the end I guess merely nodding again.  
“Ohhhh!”  
Fuck now he’s a thirteen year old girl.  
“Who do you think it is?” 

Jesus, if I didn’t currently have a packet of peas on my face, I’d facepalm. I stare at the boy, mentally urging him to get there. Not for the first time I sigh looking over my oldest friend, working to remind myself of his good qualities. Because it’s evident as ever intelligence isn’t one of them. He’s still watching me expectedly and I give up what little hope I had for him. “My money is on Stan, I mean it could be Kenny I guess.. I just hope to fucking god it’s not Cartman.” I sigh feeling like I’m explaining maths to a monkey. He’s nodding again, kind of frantically actually; not dissimilar to one of those nodding dogs people display in their cars. Until that is he hears Cartman’s name, at that point his face screws into a mixture of horror and disgust; reminding me of at least one reason we’re friends. 

It’s clear he has further questions, and as I’m actually finding studying his reactions to be a good distraction; I’d have been willing to humour them a while longer. In that moment however the noise from outside doubles, if not triples. Words aren’t exchanged as we simultaneously get to our feet, edging towards his bedroom window; peas hitting the floor. 

If not for the wide eyed boy beside me reacting in much the same way I am I’d assume this wasn’t real. It can’t be. His voice shaking slightly with fear he looks to me.  
“D-do you see that? Is it real?”  
My eyes meet his before looking back out; if only to double check. But it’s real all right. What was hail is now blocks of ice. Literally the size of concrete slabs. The weight of them leaving craters where they land, in the distance car alarms start to go off, I can only assume from being hit by said blocks. I can hear my heartbeat as I let a shaky breath out nodding “I see it too.”

Neither of us speak anymore; our eyes are trained out of the window as blocks keep falling. Eventually it occurs to me that if I was still out there it’s more than likely one of those would have killed me. Crushed me like a bug. Which in the grand scheme of things is essentially how insignificant I am in this universe. I’ve never witnessed anything like this and I’d die happy if I never had to again. The look on Clyde’s face as he chews his bottom lip nervously suggests that he feels the same way. I reach to squeeze his shoulder lightly, partly to remind him he isn’t alone, partly to remind myself. Then what can’t have been ten minutes after it started, it stopped just as quickly. Were the blocks not still littering the ground I’d assume I’d zoned out and imagined the whole thing.  
“T-that.. that was really fucking weird man.”  
Clyde’s eyes find mine and I nod in response “yeah..”  
He looks back out almost challenging it to start again, but it’s gone. Shaking his head He sighs looking to me.  
“We should sleep.”

Clyde slides into his bed next to me; I sigh starting to move over but he has other ideas. His arms wrapping around me as he chuckles.  
“Big spoon or little spoon man?”  
I repeat the sentence in my head, craning my head to look at him. “What are you doing?”  
“That’s not an answer!”  
He practically sings back causing me to groan. “Get off of me you ass..”  
“Well if you’re not gonna say I’ll go with my gut. You’re the little spoon right?”  
My cheeks burn, thank fuck it’s dark, and I growl. “Dude! Seriously what the fuck?”  
Clyde chuckles from behind me hugging me close.  
“Oh yeah you’re definitely the little spoon.. you’re a little boney though man..”  
This guy is fucking ridiculous. “You seriously want to spoon me to sleep? I thought I was the gay one.”  
His tongue clucking from behind me, somehow he manages to tighten his vice like grip on me.  
“Nothing gay about cuddles man. Now shut up and sleep.”

This is a task which is evidently easier for him than me. Clyde has the ability to sleep almost anywhere though, so I’m hardly surprised. His low snore echos in my ear. Ordinarily this noise is enough for me to consider smothering him in his sleep. Tonight however it’s annoyance is keeping my mind occupied. Allowing me to surprise other more unpleasant emotions. I don’t think I’ll ever sleep. But eventually I do. 

Far too soon pulled from sleep, burying my face further in the pillow I try to cling to it. In my only semi conscious state my brain is trying to piece back together last nights events. A sleepy grin plays on my lips as I replay my time with Tweek. Wait, what is that? And there’s breath on my neck, the weight of an arm around me? My brow furrows as I start to wake more. The less pleasant parts of the previous night playing in my mind like a slideshow. Until that is it lands on where I am, and more importantly who’s dick is pressing against my ass. My eyes snap open, I’m awake now. Pulling away from my best friend I turn to face him, pushing up enough that I can slap the cheesy smile off of his sleeping face. 

I don’t hit him hard; just hard enough to wake him. Eyes flying open he blinks up at me frowning.  
“Craig? What the hell?”  
My eyes roll as I pull myself from his grasp and sigh. “My ass hurts enough as it is without you dry humping me in your sleep.”

His eyes widen up at me, cheeks flushing as he attempts to protest.  
“Don’t flatter yourself man.”  
I raise an eyebrow “in case you haven’t noticed ‘Mr big spoon’, you’re pitching a tent down there.”

After a while he runs out of excuses and or patience. Around the same time something else finally clicks in his brain.  
“Wait, your ass hurts? Why would your ass hurt?”  
He pauses studying my face; and hell I don’t know if he finds something or guesses but for once in his life he gets it right first time.  
“You had sex?!”  
He stares at me expectingly, I hold his stare keeping him stuck in anticipation before giving a small shrug. If he wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. In an instant he’s sat cross legged looking down as me, an excited grin plastered to his face. 

After what feels like a billion questions later, more than half of which I had straight up avoided, hunger finally pulled him from my interrogation. I on the other hand have never felt less like eating and wave him off remaining in his room. Pushing out of the bed myself I find my soggy clothes from the night before moving to check the pockets. Finding them empty I remember I’m no longer in possession of my phone. Luckily for me Clyde left his up here. I pick it up and dial Tweek chewing at my bottom lip. Anxiety rises through me with each ring, and had it been my phone? It’d have met the wall when it rolled through to answerphone. 

Instead I push up, my fingers making there way through my hair and sigh moving to look in the mirror. My eye isn’t swollen anymore, but damn it’s colourful. There’s no way I’m leaving this house today. So what does that leave me with? Repeatedly calling him? Hoping he’ll answer? Fuck now I’m a thirteen year old girl. Taking no note of my pissed off expression Clyde watches me from the doorway, bowl of cereal in hand smirking.  
“You had sex, and your ass hurts, you’re the bottom.”  
Fuck I don’t care that it’s not my phone, I launch it at his head.


	6. Chapter 6

Hours pass, Clyde’s tears eventually subsiding, see he’s a crybaby, he’s also sporting an iPhone sized red mark on his cheek. I’m clutching Clyde’s phone again now; and despite the newly cracked screen it still works. I’ve lost count of the texts I’ve sent, still hearing nothing back. At some point Clyde manages to remove the phone from my hands, replacing it instead with the PlayStation controller he had been holding. 

Unfortunately I’m so well practiced in this task I don’t need to think; meaning the blonde still occupies my mind. My fingers flicking between L1 and R1, aim, shoot, move; repeat. Zombie after zombie goes down. Thumbs moving without need to think, I know this map inside out. Rounds pass and hordes grow, normally I pay this passionately, competitively. But I’ve gone down more than once, hell I’m on my last quick revive; and I don’t care. I feel numb. Something I’ve decided is a bodies way of shutting down; because in order to feel nothing you seemingly have to actually be feeling too much. This in turn flips a switch, self preservation I suppose, resulting in my current state. 

A heavy sigh slips my lips as I go down for the last time. The zombies along with my thoughts had gotten too much and swallowed me whole. Yesterday Tweek and I connected, physically, mentally, hell even spiritually if you’re into that crap; I’m not. Given ourselves to each other and I’d been working under the assumption that the act had meant the same to him as me. Doubt is creeping through me, what if I’m wrong? Why isn’t he replying? Why won’t he talk to me?

Apparently my internal turmoil has extended to my exterior. Watching my face contort, fists gripping the controller tighter, Clyde grimaces. He seems to weigh up my possible reactions before leaning forward to ease the controller from my grip. Presumably in order to stop it meeting the same fate as his phone had earlier. My hands fall to my sides in defeat as I try to clear emotion from my face. This is fucking ridiculous. I need to go over there. Need to see him. I don’t care about my eye. Hell Clyde doesn’t look great now either, if I take him we could probably pass it off as having fought with each other instead. My mind made up I open my mouth to speak, but a knock at the door cuts me off. 

In that moment I’m back to last night. Limbs entangled together, enveloped in Tweek. Sleepy haze surrounding us but neither wanting to give up this moment. His fingers reach down tracing fresh lines on my arms.  
“Y-you have scratches.”  
I glance to my arm briefly, he’s right. I guess the alcohol had stopped me from noticing when we fell earlier. My eyes land back on him studying his body for similar imperfections, a lazy smile playing on my lips. Nodding I meet his eyes as I allow my thumb to circle the purpling mark on his hip.  
“Well you have a bruise.”  
Then of course my father had fucked it all up. 

My eyes lock with Clyde’s, but then he’s up bouncing to the doorway.  
“Relax, it’s only Token.”  
Oh, I guess that’s why he wanted his phone back. Stupid me for figuring he was trying to distract me. Ease my clear discomfort. I frown glancing towards his window; sun shining through. Last nights storm may be gone, but there’s still a dark cloud hanging over me. 

Still rooted in place I don’t bother turning my head as I hear the two boys enter. Fuck them. Fuck emotions. Fuck this whole goddamn town and everyone in it. I’m angry now. I’m not a child and I sure as hell don’t need these two babysitting me. Though I’m not facing them my mind is able to form their condescending looks, disguised of course as sympathy, from memory alone. Confirming this Token’s voice finally sounds.  
“Are you okay man?”  
My eyes roll so far back I’m sure I look like something from a Stephen King movie as I snap my head to them. Forcing an insincere grin; only adding further I’m sure to the deranged look on my face. “Oh fucking fantastic, what gave it away?” My voice dripping with sarcasm. 

Undeterred, and let’s face it used to me, he tries again.  
“I uh, I went by Tweek’s on the way over here.”  
My breath catches as my face rearranges itself. Anger replaced by, hope? Anticipation? My eyes searching are his face, attempting to read something, anything. My mind meanwhile panics, attempting to figure out what to ask first. But he isn’t finished.  
“Yeah well Clyde mentioned you’d been acting strange, well stranger than usual. He wasn’t there though, no one was. I’m sorry man.”  
I don’t even flip him off. I probably should but at this moment I don’t care; well not about that anyway. Instead I just further deflate and push myself up and past them. Ignoring their surprised protests before locking myself in the bathroom. My hands clutch the sink basin, my eyes studying my reflection in the mirror before me. I want to scream. I want to be angry. So angry that wherever I go I leave a trail of destruction in my wake. But I’m not angry. I’m scared and I’m sad. So I lower myself to the floor, pull my knees to my chest and rest my forehead to them, allowing myself to silently cry. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. How long it’s been since they stopped knocking. But finally my breathing has become more evenly paced. I push my self up with a groan, shit I forgot my ass hurt. My face reflects back at me, swollen and red from crying. I groan turning on the tap and cup the cold water to splash against my face before turning my back on myself. A couple of breaths later I’m pushing myself out of the room before I can talk myself out of it. Now or never right?

Two pairs of eyes turn in my direction, only one stare lands on me though; Clyde is avoiding looking directly at me. I walk over to join them offering no explanation. I don’t have one right now anyway. Clyde is chewing on his lip, Token sighs; and I hold his stare, defiance in my eyes. Neither of us talking, yet not breaking the stare, caught in a stalemate. And it’s tense. Too tense clearly for Clyde, slipping back to our conversation from earlier. The one that had briefly kept my mind occupied.  
“Craig thinks Kyle likes Stan.”  
Fucking big mouth. 

Token blinks for a moment, before letting out a heavy sigh; though to Clyde not me thank god.  
“You aren’t going to let this go are you?”  
He knows something. I don’t know how I know this but I do. Something he hasn’t yet revealed to either of us. Clyde hasn’t noticed, what a surprise. Instead he’s blinking at Token, I’d assume unable to imagine how this wasn’t more interesting to the other boy. It’s my turn to sigh “Well am I right?”  
Token blinks a little, embarrassed and somewhat caught off guard at the fact I noticed. Clyde just looks confused.  
“How would he know?”  
“Yes.”  
Clyde had all but exploded at that point. Saucepan sized eyes watching Token like a god as he told us what he knew. The story isn’t long, I suppose it’s made a little longer by Clyde’s many interruptions. But once it’s done the boys beside me are asking and answering questions respectively. 

My mind on the other hand is replaying what it’s just been told. They were drunk. At a party. A party that like last nights had been at Wendy’s. Stan’s girlfriend’s. They were in the same room I’d been in last night. All of it was fucking similar, although in all fairness we were back at Tweek’s before he blew me. There is a key difference though, being that neither Tweek or I have a girlfriend, let alone one that had walked in. 

I shake my head to myself, gross. So that’s why she broke up with him, and I’m guessing she’s how Token knows. Wait, so is this why Stan is fucking every girl he can? Trying to prove something? To who? Himself? Kyle? Wendy? And shit, why the fuck did Kyle go last night? Jesus I guess he’s more ballsy than I thought. That however is as I’m about to discover, not necessarily a good thing. 

“Everyone knows now.”  
I’d swear my blood runs cold in that moment as I look back to Token. Shit.  
“Fuck, well it was late.. and man I think they were both drunk, but Kyle tried to talk to Wendy, apologise I think. And guys you know her, if she wasn’t drunk she wouldn’t have done it. But she snapped, yelled at him. There weren’t as many people still there, but there were enough.”

A slightly stunned silence falls over us. Token looks uneasy. I’m lost for words, like seriously how do you follow that. I mean he sucked his best friends cock then got outed by said best friends ex girlfriend publicly. Fucking hell.  
“She felt terrible, cried herself to sleep.”  
He follows and I sigh nodding a little. In this moment I think he’s asking for affirmation that Wendy is still a good person. Which I guess she is, what I know of her anyway, everyone fucks up. He’s relaxed slightly, giving me a small smile of thanks. 

The moment is of course lost on Clyde, who’s mind has focused in on something else instead. And now he’s smirking.  
“Hah! You didn’t get laid last night either!”  
This time I do facepalm, ouch. Talk about a one track mind. But the smirk vanishes almost as quickly as it appeared as Token shrugs back at him.  
“Morning sex man.”  
Instead now he’s pouting, arms crossed like a sulking toddler.  
“Ugh not fair. I want some.”  
His expression is pulling a small twitch of a smile at my mouth, and like a cat with a mouse I decide to play. “Oh I know, that still doesn’t mean you get to try with me though, I felt violated this morning.” His mouth drops open as his cheeks flush blinking at me. Token raising an eyebrow chuckling. Unable to form a response instead Clyde leans forwards pushing me. I react just fast enough to catch myself from falling off and sit back up returning the favour, Clyde doesn’t react fast; he falls. My smile grows at his yelp, it takes a few seconds for his head to reappear over the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed on me.  
“You know what? I think you liked it, you’re the bottom right?”  
Heat is filling my cheeks as Token considers the statement. Looking between Clyde and I before nodding a little to neither of us in particular.  
“I guess Clyde was the only one who didn’t get laid?”

I’ve avoided as many questions as I can, answering the rest with only nods. Clyde to my annoyance has even repeated some of his earlier questions. It probably only lasted five minutes but had felt like a lifetime. Were it just Clyde and I it would have been longer. Token however being the most tactful of the three of us, had quickly realised I wasn’t going to give the details they both craved. He sensed my discomfort and in an authoritative tone warned Clyde to drop it. 

I let out a small sigh of relief, glancing again to the window; and coming up with a question of my own. “Did you see the storm last night?”  
A gasp slips from Clyde’s mouth, maybe he thought he dreamed it? I turn back waiting for an answer. Nodding his head Token replies.  
“Yeah, Wendy was asleep by then, I-I thought I’d dreamed it.”  
“Me too”  
Clyde confirms and I sigh “what the fuck was that about?” Because honestly I’m sure what I witnessed has to be physically impossible. Tokens unusually confused expression would suggest I’m right. He’s searching is vast brain like a library; however this either isn’t cataloged or isn’t real as he has no answer.  
“I don’t know, but it’s a mess out there man, it wasn’t normal.”  
With a sigh I shake my head thinking to myself, ‘welcome to South Park.’


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the weekend had passed in a vicious cycle of me attempting and failing to contact Tweek. Token had gone by his house again after leaving Clyde’s, immediately reporting back that the house was still in darkness. Clyde and I trying again yesterday; there still wasn’t anyone in, or at least no one answering. I’d tried again alone the early hours of this morning. Shimmying up the drainpipe as usual, knocking tentatively on the window to his dark room. Nothing. I couldn’t take it; face pressed to the glass I’d desperately searched his room for movement, a shadow, something; anything. But the moon had answered my call; emerging from behind a cloud. The room had filled with enough light for me to note the bed was empty. 

Filled with disbelief I’m not sure how long I stayed glued to the window. Surely any minute now he’d walk in? Fatigued from lack of any quality sleep I’d been forced to return to the ground, sooner than I’d have liked. My gaze not leaving his window in the process. Terrified I racked my brain for where he could be. Why he hadn’t told me, why he won’t even talk to me. Defeated; I had turned and left. 

By that point the sun had already begun rising; I’d realised I hadn’t picked up Clyde’s key. However I’d also already known that sleep wasn’t going to come. I’d walked without direction or reason. I’d walked past the point of my legs hurting. I’d been there before I’d realised where I was going. I’d been minus the blanket and Tweek, but it was the same clearing. I’d lowered myself to the damp grass and watched as the night sky turned to day. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Time has become a foreign object; and like the trees and wildlife surrounding me I no longer have a need for it. However our clearing isn’t all that far from Stark’s pond, eventually the sound of the small town waking up reaches me. My stomach is in knots though. This sound suggests I should get up and head to school. The prospect of finally seeing Tweek is filling me with equal parts of relief and dread, its fucking confusing. The relief due to the fact there’s a good chance he’ll be there. The dread that he won’t? No; the dread that he’ll be there, but still not talk to me. 

I’d eventually pushed up and made my way there, internal battle raging all the while. Entering the building, all to aware of my still bruised face, my eyes began their search. A flash of blonde shines from the end of the hallway, my heart catches in my throat as my legs readily carrying me in the direction of the boy. Only as I get closer hope diminishes, his stature is wrong and there’s not enough hair, my entire body seeming to wilt as I realise I’m looking at Butters Stotch. 

Stopping in place I allow my eyes to refocus, rescan; nothing. Desperation is back as I realise the idea of him not turning up at all is fucking terrifying too. A startled yelp from Butters distracts me, my head turning in time to see him collide with Cartman. His funeral. My eyes roll unsurprised by the rapid flow of apologies tumbling from his mouth, hardly surprising. What is surprising, no shocking, is the fatass’ reaction. I rub my eyes to check I’m not hallucinating as I watch Cartman pick up the worried boys books, handing them back to him and actually asking if he’s alright. Blinking I wonder if lack of sleep is affecting me, I don’t have time to question it as the two now smiling boys walk off together. With a shake of my head, sometimes I do this in hopes of clearing it like at Etchosketch, I continue through the hallways searching. By the time I reach our first class I’ve still had no luck. So I resign myself to waiting and walk inside to take my seat. 

Few other students are here yet, those that are are whispering. Were I not aware of the events which took place this weekend, I mean those extending beyond myself, I’d have assumed that I was the subject. But as I rest my forehead to my desk, squeezing closed my aching eyes I hear Kyle and Stan’s names mentioned more than once. 

Each time the door opens my head snaps in its direction, disappointment growing with each person who isn’t him. Something which seems to be shared with the rest of the class; of course they’re waiting on a different ‘him’, well ‘him’s’. They get their wish before me though. Attempting to keep his head down Kyle finally enters the room; and at this moment the buzz of whispers increase tenfold. Annoyance creeps through me momentarily as I meet his eyes, sunken and rimmed with dark circles; he looks fucking awful. Doesn’t need them adding to his shit. Catching his gaze I attempt to read his face, I’m assuming he’s probably thinking the same about me. He takes his chair next to a Cartman who actually seems concerned for his well being. Fucking weird. I return my gaze to the door, students entering more frequently now. The small pursed lipped smiles I return Clyde and Token as they enter don’t reach my eyes. I’m sure Clyde has questions regarding my whereabouts this morning. But he can wait. 

At some point my gaze lands back on Kyle, I note now that he’s also watching the door now. He looks like a lovesick puppy, fuck I hope I don’t. The blush I felt building drops though as the door opens again, eyes snapping back to it. At first I see Kenny and scowl, but then I see him, following behind the other boy; since when do they hang out? I don’t care. I let out a breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding and grin as I study the familiar form. 

Part of me is screaming to get up, rush to him and hold him. The part of me embarrassed at this prospect though wins out the battle and I stay sat there grinning. Ironically I’m seemingly lost in having found him because it takes me a moment to realise he hasn’t even looked my way. Still in conversation with Kenny he instead walks over taking the empty seat usually reserved for Stan next to Kyle. My face falling as I watch him, seeing a confused expression on Kyle’s face beside him. What the fuck? 

Of course this is only increasing the whispers filling the room like static. Blood is rushing to my head, my knuckles turning white as I grip the sides of my desk. I’m sure I’m at least now a part of the conversation. Tweek however is busy, initiating his own conversation instead with Kyle. He looks so at ease, so relaxed. 

No nervous twitches, no high pitched squeals, from the way his mouth is moving as I follow it I’d go as far as to say he isn’t even stuttering. I wish I could lipread. The form before me is the same, and in the brief moments I glimpse his eyes, the emerald orbs are shining as bright as ever. But something feels very wrong. I’ve been staring too long, and in far too of an obvious manner. My eyes stay trained on him long after the class has started. I’m here but not present, physically rooted to the spot as my mind searches time and space for answers. So consumed with thought I hadn’t even realised how angry I was till the teacher called my name and I’d heard my own voice growl through gritted teeth “What?!” All eyes are on me now, hers included are narrowed. Before she can start I’m standing, taking the most direct route to the door. Her voice sounds as my hand makes contact with the handle, I don’t respond, don’t even turn my head. Just flip her off as I leave. 

The rest of the morning is spent in the bathrooms. Lid down, sat with my legs lifted, feet pressed flat against the door in order to avoid detection were someone to check; this isn’t my first rodeo. The pungent smell off piss is offending my nostrils, I’d like to be able to claim it’s also responsible for the stinging in my eyes. No that’s due to my stubbornness, unwillingness to let my emotions do there thing. I’m forcing back tears of, anger? Fear? Confusion? At this point I really don’t know. For the most part it’s quiet, I only have to suffer through hearing one person piss. Usually when I lock myself away from everything in this way, still silence is what I’m seeking. Today on the other hand it’s eerie. 

Had the room not filled with sound I wouldn’t have realised morning break had arrived. Noise cutting through my thoughts I decide now is my best chance to talk to him. Pushing out of the stall I keep my head down, hands burrowing into my pockets as I make my way towards the class I know he has. Reaching it moments to late for me to be there in time to meet him as he leaves. My eyes once again scan through the crowds of people. This time they land on him, he’s the other end of the hallway about to turn right. Without pausing for thought my body picks up speed, much like some cheesy character in a rom com. 

Being that the hallway isn’t that long, and that speed tends to be in my favour anyway, only moments later I’m cutting him off, my hand connecting with his shoulder, squeezing softly. Startled yet somehow seemingly not fazed his only reaction is to stop, eyes looking up to me surprised. His eyes are beautiful, a smile plays on my lips as I return his stare, “hey you.”  
Silence hangs between us. His surprise melting into confusion, my smile contorting to scowl.  
“Craig? Why are you talking to me?”  
I’m rigid now, stare still trained to his face. What? Why wouldn’t I talk to him? More than once I open my mouth to speak, yet every time at a loss for words. Surprise is gone from his face now, and he looks, confused? Annoyed? For once I don’t know and that scares me. My eyes search his, pleading for this to stop because I can’t take it. But somethings wrong. Something in his eyes. It’s like he’s looking right through me, doesn’t know me at all. 

A small gasp slipping from my lips, I find myself stepping back. Hand falls from his shoulder but my eyes not breaking from his. Neither of us knows what to do or say. He looks away first scratching at the back of his head.  
“Well okay, I should go.”  
A million things are running through my head before he speaks, but once the words are out the one clear thought screaming through is ‘stop him.’ He steps to the right but I match him, “I-I think I left my phone at yours?” Annoyance is a little more clear as I block him and his stare meets mine again, this time he’s frowning.  
“I really don’t think so.”

What the fuck is happening. Why are you looking at me like that? Why are you acting like this? Are just a variety of the selection my brain offers. However the bell beats me, catches me off guard; causing me to lose my focus. Once I regain it I realise he’s gone. Head spinning I turn, heading back to where I came from. 

It isn’t till hours later, what I’m assuming, by the bathrooms sudden influx of traffic, to be nearing the end of lunch, before I next hear my name. Shortly after two pairs of feet had entered together, Token’s voice cutting through the air. I guess I’d known it was only a matter of time. Both boys know my tricks, and this school only has a limited number of bathrooms for them to check.  
“What?” I manage to reply, accompanied by a heavy sigh.  
Clyde’s voice has a slight anxious tone as he repeats their usual threat,  
“You know what man, you come out or we’re coming in.”  
I don’t want to leave this stool. I don’t want to face my friends. But more than that, I don’t want to get suspended for breaking a toilet like I was last time they climbed over the top and descended upon me. My feet momentarily leave the door, I pause slamming them back against it in frustration, before I finally lower them to the ground, standing to unlock the door. 

The door edges open, my jaw clenching as I avoid there gaze walking out. Neither of them moves or speaks, they just watch me. Something they’ll be doing for indefinitely if they’re waiting for me to break the silence. This continues for a while, so fucking pointless. If they have nothing to say can’t they leave me the hell alone? My face is betraying my emotion and Token zones in.  
“You’re coming to gym.”  
“No.”  
“Yes you are.”  
“I don’t even have a change of clothes. No.”  
But he’s not giving in, frowning now.  
“Well I have extra.”  
Finally meeting his gaze I frown more, “Token I said no.”  
Clyde looks uneasy now and sighs.  
“Craig?”  
My face scrunches in response, remembering the way it had sounded coming out of Tweek’s mouth earlier repeating on me. Cold, indifferent. The boy I thought I knew better than anyone else in this world, hell the boy who is my whole world, wasn’t there. 

I mean he was there, I’d seen him, spoken to him. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t my Tweek. Believe me, the time I’ve had alone today, I’ve had enough time to figure out how crazy that sounds. It’s it isn’t him then what? A Tweek like robot? Some strange creature using his body as a host? I swear to god there is no fucking rational explanation. Which leaves me where I began, Lost; not the remotest idea how to explain any of this. The back and forth argument restarts after I ignore the second boys attempt. I put up a fight but I’m not at my best and I lose; the other boys steering my reluctant body to the guys changing room. As I’m about to enter a hand lands on my shoulder, causing me to turn with a frown, cursing as the annoyed face of my earlier teacher comes into my vision. Fuck. I tune her out as she explains how my behaviour was inappropriate, I don’t care, only zoning back in on the words ‘detention and tonight’, taking the slip I finally follow after my friends. This day just keeps giving and giving. 

I’d gotten changed into Token’s spare clothes on record time. And I look fucking ridiculous, out of all the things I currently care about that is however low. For once I’m one of the first out, I figure they can’t question me if I’m not there. In keeping with this I actually take part in today’s class. This is made easier by the fact that we’re just running cross country. Sport isn’t my forte, but I can run. So run I do, wind slapping at my face, I run as fast as I can, pushing my body. By the end my legs feel heavy and my lungs are screaming. But as I drop back down onto the bench in the changing room I allow myself the smallest of smiles, head resting back to the wall, eyes closed. I successfully managed to barely think for an hour. Someone passed in front of me, a familiar smell pulling my eyes back open to watch Tweek walk past, not glancing my way and once again settling instead next to Kyle, Kenny and Cartman, clearly Stan was a no show, coward. 

I pretend not to notice Clyde and Token’s confused glances. I’m preoccupied, eyes trained on the blonde across the changing room. I probably look like a fucking creep, hell I’m watching him change. But I’m also watching for anything that can give me some explanation. Eyes explore freshly exposed skin and I’m still not finding any answers. 

The school day ends with me possibly feeling worse than when it had started. Token and Clyde I think had an understanding that they’d be trying to get through to me again tonight. After explaining my detention, Token of course reminding me that I brought it upon myself they’d told me to call them. This again was faltered by my lack of phone. Token finally gaining some more insight to the other night had given me money despite my protests.  
“Pay me back whenever if you really need too, just take it.”  
He had ended my pride filled reluctance to take it. With no phone, no wallet and no desire to yet return home I was left shit out of other options really. He’s always fucking right. 

I reach the classroom designated for detention before the teacher. There’s already students littering the room, Kenny being one of them I note. Making my way to the back of the room I pick out a window seat. As we wait, I people watch, the fact that I’m only looking for one person I decide doesn’t negate from that. But when I see him, he again isn’t alone. He’s leaving with Kyle. What in holy fuck has made Kyle his new best friend? Have I missed something? The teacher enters, detention starting as I attempt to connect dots. It only takes around ten minutes of the hour detention before I settle on the only new factor I can find. The only thing having changed that we know about the red haired boy this weekend. Kyle is gay. My stomach all but drops out as dots finally connect. Please don’t say the two things are related. 

My stomach is turning at the idea. No. No Tweek loves me. Kyle wants Stan. No. I can’t think about it, I can’t. So I bite down on my tongue, pain briefly pulling me from the moment and squeeze my eyes closed. Tweek’s body is back though, you can’t escape what occupies your mind. I’m back in the dressing room watching him change. He’s so calm, added to by the fact he’s unaware my eyes are studying his every move. Clothes slide off, his smooth perfect skin glistening slightly with sweat. Fuck he’s hot. He’s perfect; too perfect. Pulled from the moment I feel the colour drain from my face, the clock reads there’s still 40 minutes left of detention. I spend every minute trying to come up with an explanation. It had been angry, was definitely going to get darker before it got lighter. Yet there’s no denying it, Tweek’s hip was unblemished.


	8. Chapter 8

I’d looked at my arm more than once already, but as I leave the building I find myself doing it again. They’re starting to heal but the scratches are still there. Thoughts are firing faster than I can process; let alone begin to understand them. Remembering the money in my pocket I make a decision, one which had Token had been around to witness would have resulted in a slap to the back of my head. With gritted teeth I turn on my heels walking in the direction that’ll lead me to Tegridy farm. 

Randy Marsh seemingly never matured fully. When he’d set up the business no one had expected it to last. Much like the video store before it, we’d assumed it was his newest fleeting fad and soon he’d fuck it up as per usual. The farm however had stuck. Idiotic as he can be, he doesn’t sell to kids. Hell especially not kids he knows are in his sons year, not to mention he drinks with my father sometimes; therefore being far too aware of who I am. This fact however is negated by another, his son. Randy never fully got a hold on stock numbers, Stan having figured this out realised he could make money for himself by filling that market. 

The irony that an hour ago I saw Tweek leave with Kyle and I am now going to see Stan isn’t lost on me. No it’s grinding instead, another fucking thought for the pile. I don’t smoke often, usually only when someone else has it. One time Tweek and I had gotten some, well I’d gotten it for us as he was too nervous. Nerves had soon fled however once we we both riding out highs. My thoughts had slowed down, I could almost see them floating in the air, able to pause and select one then narrow in on it. I want that now, need it, control of my thoughts. 

I’m all but standing in front of it when I remember Stan was a no show today. Heading up the pathway tension leaves as I note the families cars parked out front, Stan’s included; good he’s here. Stuffing my hands in my pockets I bypass the front door, slipping round the back instead to an old barn building. I guess back when this place was a functioning farm it was used to hold livestock. Nowadays, with help from his business venture, Stan has claimed the place as his own, it’s more of a man cave, complete with flatscreen tv, video game consoles and a mini fridge. 

I knock once, then not pausing for an answer let myself in. His head snaps to mine, what I think is mild panic coating his face. Seeing me however clearly isn’t what he’d been afraid of, this soon fades and he frowns muttering.  
“Just let yourself in why don’t you.”  
My eyes roll as I walk over dropping down on the second couch pulling money from my pocket holding it up, “do you want this or not?”  
He blinks and deflates slightly sighing and nodding before moving over to his makeshift station starting to weigh up. I lean back looking around, the tv’s off; half a joint in the ashtray, and fucking hell there’s a lot of empty bottles. Does this guy never clean?

Returning with the goods, he passes them over taking the money in response. Without asking I lean over using and using his materials begin to roll my own. I feel him watching me, he’s annoyed, but I also know this chicken shit is too much of a people pleaser to outright tell me. Finishing my task I take his lighter and begin to smoke. 

Relighting his own he continues to watch me, I can see him more than once consider telling me to get out. But each time he doesn’t, causes a smirk to play on my lips. Eventually he seems to admit defeat, I’m here and clearly not planning on leaving anytime soon. Sighing he shrugs,  
“Uh.. so how was school?”  
A broad question, too broad. But it’s also not what he’s asking. Confusion and fear are knitting his brow, Hell he doesn’t look much better than Kyle had earlier. I weigh up my options, he doesn’t want to hear this, and I shouldn’t care about that; I’ll have to check myself on why I seemingly do later. But equally he needs to hear it, because it isn’t going away. I meet his worried eyes with a sigh “everyone knows man.”

He deflates so fast I’m surprised he isn’t swallowed up into the sofa itself. His fist balls in his hair, cheeks beginning to glow before standing and letting out a frustrated scream, turning and kicking one of the many bottles across the room. The crash echos through the room as it smashes upon making contact with the wall. Unmoving I watch his fists clench and release at his sides, eyes trained on his own destruction, body rigid and breathing ragged. Unspeaking I keep watching, his body starts to sag, he’s trembling slightly. I give him his moment then open my mouth, “feel better?”  
He tenses again, Hell he was in his own bubble, probably forgot I was here, before letting out a heavy sigh, returning to his spot on the couch to roll another.  
“No.”

We smoke in a silence, one which due to my now more relaxed state, I at least don’t find awkward. Stan’s face on the other hand seems to be acting out whatever internal conversation he’s having. In this moment I’m able to push away my other thoughts and instead focus on the guy in front of me. Some time later he breaks the silent barrier eyes seemingly trying to challenge me,  
“I’m not gay.”  
Hell this boy is stupid; not quite Clyde level though. I hear a laugh fall from my lips before I can stop it and meet his stare shrugging “I don’t care.” That wasn’t what he expected. His mouth is opening and closing like a goldfish, his eyes seemingly waiting for me to say something else. But what else is there to say? Because who he’s attracted to doesn’t matter to me at all. 

He doesn’t know what to say now, emotions I can’t read flit across his face until he sighs nodding.  
“Oh. Thanks.”  
I have no idea what he’s thanking me for, and no chance to ask as the door knocks. What I assume to be business calling. But Stan is rigid again staring at the door like he’s scared of it. “You gonna get that?” I throw into the air bringing him back to earth. Chewing his lip and groaning he starts over, if I was a good person I’d probably have gone for him. He pauses before opening it, taking a moment to prepare himself, before pulling the door open slowly. 

My eyes roll as I let out my own groan seeing Cartman’s large frame filling the doorway. This isn’t what either of us need. But he’s smiling, holding what appears to be a stack of schoolwork. Floating in front of me is the memory from earlier. I pick it out and rewatch a strangely kinder than usual Cartman helping a bewildered Butters. I’m pulled from the moment as his voice fills the room.  
“Hey stan! You weren’t at school today, I hope you’re okay? I brought by your homework!”  
I can only see Stan’s back, but I’d assume his expression matches mine. Utter loss in regard to any comprehension of what just happened. My eyes leave the pair, glancing instead to the joint in my hand, this must be some seriously good shit. 

Letting that thought take over I blocked them back out. Time is an even stranger concept when you’re high. Mostly due I suppose to the fact that it seemingly escapes you, you’re aren’t necessarily aware of the time, day, hell even year if you’ve had enough. I suppose it makes sense, the stuff I’m inhaling is natural, in doing so, for me, like in nature time ceases to exist. 

An unknown period later Stan is back sitting on the opposite couch, blinking in confusion. In my dissociated state I barely notice. More time paces and his usually patient demeanour is faltering.  
“Did you see that? What was that?”  
His voice works, drags me back to reality, and I return my focus to him, “Cartman?”  
“Yes! Why the fuck was he acting like that?! Bringing me my homework? Hell if he’d used it as an excuse to rip into me I’d get it!”  
I’m nodding along with him, shrugging in response; something only adding to the other boys frustration. He wants answers, wants me to be like his friends and readily jump on the bandwagon, debating ideas. But I’m not them, that isn’t me, and currently I don’t have any solid answers for anything. 

His hands throw up into the air, as if he’s trying to launch his annoyance from his body.  
“Well you’re fucking helpful!”  
I shrug again, annoyance is starting to shift to anger.  
“Jesus Craig why are you such an uncaring asshole!”  
It’s my turn to frown now, eyes narrowing on him. He doesn’t know me. Doesn’t get to say that. And fuck him, the hypocritical asshole. “That’s rich coming from the guy who uses girls like sex dolls.”  
He sees red and launches himself at me; sending the both of us tumbling from the sofa to the ground. 

It takes me a moment to react, head smacking back against the hard floor causing me to groan. And in that moment he has the upper hand, I’m pinned. He’s shaking slightly, face scrunched, but as quickly as it formed the anger is draining. I watch his teeth dig into his lip, seeing him think, grip loosening some. This gives me time to act, and before he knows it happening out positions are reversed, “that hurt you asshole!” I growl, my grip isn’t loosening; realising this he suddenly looks worried. Probably assuming I’m going to give him a bruise to match my own. But no I’m going to do something he probably likes even less. I’m going to make him listen. “You want to hear what I think Stan? Really? Well fucking fine! I think I hit a nerve. I think you know I’m right. I think you’re using people to help yourself avoid your own shit! And what’s worse? You fucking know it!” Finally my grip loosens as I study his stunned face. I’m not sure I’ve ever said this much to him in one go. He’s listening. I sigh starting to sit up, leaving him on the ground. “It’s gross and you’re better than that.” Silence falls between us. Nothing else left to say, I return to the sofa and roll another joint; moments later Stan, now blushing, does the same. 

A far more relaxed air eventually rises through the building. He no longer needs to talk; music humming in the background we’d started with games, now settled on Netflix. Both cocooned in our own bubbles, neither choosing to focus on the thoughts we probably should be. Eventually I notice him moving, pulling off his shirt and grabbing a couple of blankets, throwing one in the direction of my couch; before settling down on his own.  
“I’m going to sleep, guessing you aren’t leaving?”  
Slightly stunned I give him a thankful nod in return, finishing my joint and hesitating before moving to pull off my own shirt and laying down. The light of the tv screen betrays the expression on Stan’s face before he can hide it. I see it; he sees that I do. He was watching me, eyes roaming my chest. My own cheeks flush in time with his, frown setting in. Having fun there Marsh? Then another thought floats past, my mind selecting it. Shaking my head I smirk a little “You’re gay.”  
His cheeks only flush further as he lets out sounds of protest.  
“No I’m not!”  
I shake my head, covering myself as I roll over, chuckling to myself, “well you sure as hell aren’t straight.”  
When no response comes I accept it, closing my eyes. I assume he’s done the same, till that is a sigh drops and his voice sounds again, though almost whispering this time, and he repeats his earlier answer.  
“No, I’m not.”


	9. Chapter 9

You know how there are some noises that get under your skin? Make your whole body tense involuntarily, mouth grimacing? Just really fucking grind on you. For me one of those noises is the sound of people chewing; and this is the sound I wake up too. Making no attempt to cover my displeasure I groan, forcing myself to sit up. Taking in the sight before me I roll my eyes, Stan is eating cereal directly from the box, by the handful, lovely. 

Unable to hear me over the horrific sound he is currently emitting he doesn’t even notice. I frown reaching to pull on my shirt, shit I really need some more clothes, and the movement, distracting him, alerts him to my consciousness. They say things can always get worse? Well they can. Giving me what I can only assume he intended to be a friendly smile, he also manages to show me half of his mouth full; complete with pieces stuck in his teeth. Gross. He’s oblivious; he should spend more time with Clyde. 

Oh god and now he’s pulling his hand out of the box and offering it to me. Oh hell no, I shake my head in response and he shrugs digging right back in. Averting my eyes I reach for the tv control, needing anything to drown out the noise. I also realise I haven’t eaten much at all recently. Fuck it, I don’t need food; I need answers. I take a breath before turning to Stan. “You’re taking me to school today. And you’re going in.” He stops dead mid-chew, blinking at me. I expect him to argue, fight me on it. But instead he visibly sags in his seat and sighs.  
“I-I know I have to go.”

Despite this he still doesn’t want to, that’s obvious. I can’t honestly blame him though; were I in his shoes I’m sure I’d feel the same way. He seems to be drawing every little thing out, I never knew a guy could take this long to get ready. Waiting is dull and tedious; worse than that however it also gives you time to think. I’m no longer able to pick and choose my thoughts as I had been last night. And of course they focus in on Tweek; they always do. Managing to conjure his imagine in my mind from memory alone. 

Cream coloured skin, topped by unruly blonde hair, his frame extends to a few inches shorter than my own; though he’s built more stockily. I step towards him in my mind to take in more; my Tweek vision smiling in return. A real smile, messy and full of slightly crooked teeth rather than the twitching half smile he offers almost everyone else. I can see the light shining through his eyes, his slightly upturned nose twitch. Hell I’d swear I can smell him; coffee and coconut. A combination that in theory shouldn’t work; yet to me is intoxicating. 

But in an instant he’s changing, the light leaving his eyes is the first give away. And the longer I stare the more that changes. His brows, usually raised in nervous anticipation are instead heavy and flat. No bunny like nose twitches. Most notably no smile. The boy in front of me both is and isn’t Tweek. Each feature, though the same, seems to be sitting slightly differently. This of course is the Tweek from yesterday, the one I’d felt I hadn’t known. The one who seemingly didn’t know me. He terrifies me. 

Stan sighs as we finally make our way to his car; at this point we’re already late. Yet as I reach for the handle, I freeze feeling his hand on my shoulder, and turn to face him. He looks worried again, chewing on his lip, more begging than asking.  
“Please, please don’t tell anyone what happened?”  
In my head I facepalm; however my deadpan expression remains. If Clyde’s morning wood had been anything more than that I’d be considering setting them up at this point. Anticipation and worry cloud his face; only serving to further prove how little he knows me. With a roll of my eyes I shrug “which part? The fact you aren’t straight or that you were checking me out?” I smirk when, after seconds of baffled blinking, a blush covers over his cheeks. Seeing my face change he frowns a little slugging me in the arm.  
“You are such an ass!”  
Shit! I groan my hand reaching to rub my now throbbing bicep. I seemingly have the ability to surprise Stan with my words; he has a far more physical way of returning the favour. 

Narrowing my eyes I growl, “last fucking warning. Stop hitting me.” He watches me and sighs walking round to climb into the car, begrudgingly at this point, I do the same. Before we’ve fully pulled into the road he’s trying again.  
“Craig I’m serious, you can’t tell people what I said.”  
Somewhere inside me anger is bubbling. He’s going to keep denying it, let Kyle take the whole fall. Fucking coward; asshole. I shrug shaking my head, “Whatever. I don’t care.” He accepts this; why shouldn’t he? The problem is that it’s evident to me that I do care. I don’t know why; and I don’t like it. 

By the time we pull up we’re twenty minutes late to first period. Usually I’d call this a loss and avoid my first class altogether. However I’m pretty sure that should I do that today Stan will bail. And fuck, he doesn’t get off that easy. He deserves to walk into class met with the same response as Kyle was yesterday. For the remainder of the journey the only sound filling the car had been the stereo, in keeping with this we continued it as we move through the now empty hallways. It isn’t until the class door is in sight that he hesitates, falters and breaks the silence.  
“Fuck I can’t do this.”  
I roll my eyes in response “yes you can, and unless you plan on dropping out instead your gonna. Because like ripping off a bandaid it’s easier to get it over with quickly.” I watch him consider and seemingly accept this before groaning loudly, and starting to move again. 

I enter first, all heads turning to face me leads me to wish I hadn’t. My eyes scan the room as I edge inside, smile creeping into my face as they find who they’re searching for. Unfortunately, like my second vision earlier this Tweek isn’t mine; doesn’t return it. I mean he’s still sitting with Kyle, that should’ve given it away right? I don’t have longer to consider this though, as Stan has followed me in now and the classroom is alive. Briefly I notice Kyle’s face screw up some but don’t look for answers, instead i turn ducking my head and walk to my seat. By now the teacher is trying to settle the class, Token and Clyde leaning over to me, whispered questions firing. Due to this I don’t notice as Stan looks to Kyle then away before turning and following after me. I don’t notice that is until he fills the chair which usually belongs to Tweek. My Tweek. 

The Tweek across the room doesn’t seem to care, hell even notice. My eyes have found their way to him again and in turn seemingly locked with Kyle’s. I can’t pinpoint what the look on his face is supposed to portray exactly but he looks pissed. Initially I assume this is because of Stan rather than me. A smaller voice in the back of my mind reminds me of my thoughts in detention yesterday. The idea of him and Tweek fills my brain and it takes all of my strength not to actually scream ‘no!’ As it echos in my head. Instead I grip my pen so hard I hear it crack in my hand, gritting my teeth as I fire back an equally rage filled glare to Kyle. He breaks the eye contact first; so I won right?

Having been kept behind and handed another detention slip alongside Stan at the end of first period I then fell behind. Turned up to class after class late. Each class dragged, I couldn’t focus. When the lunch bell had sounded I’d been been momentarily elated, but now as I scan the school grounds a frown is setting in. Token and Clyde of course are in our usual spot, Kyle is at his usual spot, however the only ‘usual’ member present is Kenny, along with Tweek. My eyes flick between the two options. I want to talk to Tweek, hell I need too, but I don’t want them to hear. Swallowing slightly I head over anyway; hopefully this means I can catch him as he leaves. 

Given the direction they’re facing, the only one to see me coming is Kenny and evidently he doesn’t make it known. I let out a small huff as I sit beside Tweek. Jumping slightly he blinks at me, these tiny acts give me hope, then all too soon his face turns to confusion. I feel my own face fall in realisation that I still don’t recognise him; or him me. Hell Kyle jumped harder than he did when I’d sat down. Kenny laughing at both of their reactions is unable to greet me immediately. By the time he’s somewhat pulled himself together he is still unable to, Cartman arrives at the table with Butters. In this moment, watching how the pair interact with each other in hushed whispers, I realise Tweek isn’t the only one I don’t recognise. 

The muffled voices soon stop, Cartman turning to us with an eerie grin that doesn’t fit his face.  
“Hey guys! Hey Craig. Are you feeling better than last night? You didn’t speak at Stan’s last night.”  
I can feel my cheeks burning, I wasn’t prepared for that. But he seems genuinely concerned for my wellbeing. Which makes no sense; Cartman only cares about himself. Kenny loses it again, he’s ugly laughing with included snorts. I feel my cheeks burn more and frown at the boy growling “mind telling me what’s so fucking funny?” Oh great he’s laughing more, I let the frustration run through me without thinking and kick his leg under the table. Well that stopped the laughing, and I guess him groaning in pain is slightly less annoying.  
“Fuck! Jesus Craig lighten up! I just find it amusing that someone trying not to in any way seem gay, would spend the night with someone so openly gay.”  
My eyes bulge, cheeks flushing as I kick him again, “it was nothing like that you asshole!”

Since my outburst a quietness has fallen over our table, Kenny unlike Clyde would be isn’t still pouting, no instead he’s moved his legs from my reach and is fucking smirking. I’m still trying to calm down. Sure not everyone is as sick minded as Kenny, but the whispers when Stan and I first entered the classroom this morning? Well I suddenly feel like at least some of them may have held my name. Adding to that, Tweek doesn’t seem to care. He hasn’t said anything, reacted physically in any way to the idea. Kyle isn’t keeping his cool as well though, his cheeks are flushed. The fuck is his problem?

“Sorry if I’ve caused any upset, it truly wasn’t my intention.”  
My eyes leave Kyle, landing back on Cartman; eyebrow raised. If I hadn’t already seen the other boys, minus Tweek, react in the same way I’d seriously have to start questioning my sanity right about now. But he isn’t done, he’s chewing his lip; looks worried.  
“It’s just well, I noticed the smell yesterday. And today I was speaking to Butters about it and he told me.. well he told me that you guys were smoking marijuana yesterday.”  
Kenny, Kyle and I continue to stare at the boy, stunned. No shit Cartman, you’re one of his customers. But Tweek gasps, it sounds how it should, just this shouldn’t surprise him. My stare moves to him equally shocked before Cartman continues.  
“Well it’s just, drugs are bad. And you really shouldn’t. But worse than that I think Stan my be selling it. We need to help him you guys!”  
Butters is nodding eagerly now, I blink several times before letting my gaze leave Tweek’s, landing instead on the boy sitting opposite me; Kenny. His expression matches how I’m feeling, providing some relief. Moreover giving me some hope that I haven’t flipped the lid and started hallucinating. Kyle on the other hand seems to have hit his limit, in an instant he’s standing frowning down at Cartman. Wow Cartman actually looks scared.  
“I don’t know what your fucking game is Fatass! But I’m not playing!”  
And with that he’s storming back towards the school, probably looking for Stan I guess. 

The five of us remaining don’t know how to react at first; the others seem to readjust easier than me though and are soon chatting again. But I’m falling, tumbling down the mother fucking rabbit hole. Nothing makes any sense. I can feel myself tensing, panicking. The boy next to me is usually the one to calm me, in this moment he’s the primary cause of my distress. Yet he seems totally unaware and it’s fucking bullshit. It’s not fair. Time and conversation are lost around me as instead my head spirals. I didn’t make a conscious decision to do it, I didn’t think, but suddenly my fingertips graze Tweek’s back; tracing familiar patterns. 

The second I realise I’ve done it I also realise that it was a mistake. His body goes rigid under my touch, but not in a good way. I’m pulled to the present by the strength in his face, touch immediately retracted.  
“What the hell are you doing?”  
There’s venom on his tongue, I’ve never heard him sound like this. His eyes are hard and cold. I feel about ten years old as I open and close my mouth; words failing me. How do I answer that? How do I say it’s ‘our thing’ to someone who doesn’t seem to know who I am, more so has no desire to. I don’t. I remove myself from the situation. Leaving in much the same manner Kyle had not all that long before. 

I chose a different bathroom this time and spend the rest of the school day there uninterrupted. I guess Token and Clyde have given up. Sick of my brooding. It’s probably for the best, there’s no way to explain this anyway. No way that doesn’t get me a one way ticket to a padded room. I do eventually emerge though once the bell marking the end of the day rings. Body numb and brain on overdrive, my feet carry me back to the room I had spent detention in yesterday, choosing the same seat again. Again I see Tweek leave with Kyle. My brown furrows to a deep scowl and I make a decision. I need to talk to Kyle Broflovski.


	10. Chapter 10

I’d been tense the whole of the detention; I’m still tense now. My fists balling and releasing at my sides in time with my steps. Confrontation, although something I avoid, doesn’t bother me. I’m more than able to handle recieving insults; and pretty fucking good at giving them back. Equally, as proven the other night I can take a punch. But right now my stomach is alive with nerves. Because if anything has happened between Kyle and Tweek, once I confront Kyle he has the ability to destroy me. No amount of insults or fists could solve that. 

I stop outside his house, giving myself a moment in order to try and gain some composure. However only a moment, because I find the longer you think on something the more problems you’re able to find with it. I don’t want to think anymore, I want to know. With a deep breath I ring the doorbell. 

His mother answers, I take the moment she spends looking me over to note the similarities and differences between her and her son, until that is her gaze meets my face. Shelia’s face shows what I’m pretty sure is disgust? God damn what did I do? Hell I don’t remember the last time I was in this house. Probably around the same time Kyle used to dress as the High Jew Elf King. I can still picture him, thorned crown sat upon his green Trapper hat, a red and gold dressing gown for robes and a fucking golf club. I myself had been a thief, Tweek a barbarian. Suddenly something clicks in my brain. That something being the word in his title he hadn’t wanted; Jew.

Of course, with the pace at which the rumour mill in this town runs, everyone knew about Tweek and I dating, therefore our sexuality within days of it happening. It would only make sense that once again news has spread too quickly, so she’s heard about Kyle? Once I’ve thought about it that doesn’t surprise me. The way she’s looking at me with obvious distaste however does surprise me. Making the connection, I draw the conclusion that it may be that religions as a whole have a problem with the gays. She heard about Kyle, now she’s looking at me like that? Does she think? Oh fuck wow. No lady no, not my type. 

Ignoring the pained expression she has, in all other ways she seemingly goes out of her way to come off as polite. Assuming without asking why I was there, she’d actually remembered my name, addressing me by it before launching into an explanation for why I couldn’t see Kyle. What it is I can’t tell you. I’ve found the difference between being a good liar and a bad one lies very heavily in the way you present it, keep it simple, it helps to have one prepared too of course.

The woman in front of me has done neither of these things I may add. I on the other hand have. I meet her gaze and attempt to offer her a charming smile. “I’m sorry Mrs Broflovski, Kyle and I have a shared assignment due tomorrow and we haven’t started.” That does it, her eyes bulging slightly she doesn’t hesitate to usher me inside. Reluctance clear on her face she tells me he’s in his room and I turn to walk up. Huh, I guess grades trump religion. 

Do you know what I’ve never got? And hell maybe it’s different with the Torah, I’m not going to pretend I know all that much about Judaism. My family are Catholic; my entire childhood I’d been dragged to church weekly for Sunday service. But, the Bible has been written, edited, re-edited, passed around and given to people like Popes and Kings to check. Translated more than once, then edited some more. On top of that, everything it contains? It’s based off of stories, stories told years after they’re supposed to have occurred; told to people who didn’t know how to write. Bullshit right? Yet people fucking cling to these words. Spend their whole damn life trying to live by its rules; no worse than that. They fucking pick and choose which parts matter! I’ll never understand; I don’t want to. 

Much like with Stan’s yesterday, I knock once on his door, then open it without waiting. He’s say cross legged on his bed, looks fucking exhausted. Head turning slowly to the door, probably expecting a parent, his eyes widen as I enter; I think that’s disbelief on his face. He actually rubs his eyes before letting out a heavy ragged sigh throwing his hands up.  
”Jesus what is this?! Are you and Tweek the towns gay welcome committee or something?!”

Wow. Was not expecting that one. Especially not from him. I actually don’t have a reply ready. So instead, I remain in the doorway, watching silently, eyebrow raised and arms crossed as his hand flies to his mouth; he’s realised how loud that was. Seeing that he’s now less comfortable seems to increase my own confidence. I slip into the room shutting the door, briefly considering what his mother would make of that action, and roll my eyes, “No. if we were there’d be rainbow flags.”

He blinks at me several times before starting to laugh. It starts small but soon it’s ugly and mangled. Almost like the laugh of a cartoon villain. I pause watching him, his whole body moving with each sound, but in time movements and sounds change alike. Laughs becomes sobs before my eyes. Forgetting why I’m here; my anger and confusion. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling caused by being witness to this unfiltered stream of emotions. Instead I take in everything this house has already told me, I find myself looking at the boy before me with pity. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here before his sobs start to slow, ragged breath becomes more choked. Patient, biding time I wait. His cheeks are red once he’s pulled himself back together enough to remember I’m here. Noting this I figure we may as well start this. Once his eyes meet mine I frown between gritted teeth “what the fuck is going on between you and Tweek?”

He blinks at me before starting to laugh again, this time it pisses me off, though it’s at least more controlled. Shaking his head he shrugs.  
“Nothing. Not that I’m aware of anyway. He’s just kept showing up recently.”  
I study his face, watching for lies. Which really is a redundant task; I don’t know the boy well enough to catch his tells should he have any. But in the time it takes me to think this his own eyes have hardened.  
“What did you break up? How about you tell me what’s going on with you and stan?”  
Ladies and gentlemen he’s done it, I’m fucking lost for words. It’s my turn to laugh, while I’ve been driving myself crazy he’s seriously been doing the same? Jesus fucking Christ. 

His face hardens further whilst I’m distracted, he doesn’t find this funny. Before I realise he’s moved he’s standing in front of me, scowl on his brow; Hell I think he’s trying to look threatening.  
“Feel free to answer either question Craig!”  
And I’m back, aware now of how small the distance between us is. It’s uncomfortable; I want to step back but I won’t give him that. “I don’t know. And nothing.” I see his jaw clench as he studies my face; assumably searching for my own tells. Good luck, very few people can read me. The shake of his head suggests that he isn’t one of those people. 

Head still shaking, body tense, he turns from me beginning to pace.  
“I can’t fucking take this! I don’t know what’s real anymore.”  
I couldn’t have put it better myself. Crossing my arms I decide to continue to watch him. I’m still not sure I believe him and to be honest I think that feeling is mutual. 

But Kyle is spiralling. My mind has remained focused on one person; Tweek. His on the other hand, seems to be trying to comprehend multiple things at once, spreading himself too thin. I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or himself at this point.  
“I’m supposed to marry a nice Jewish girl! Fuck, a non Jewish girl would be frowned upon! A second best by a long way. Where do you think a non Jewish guy sits on the scale of acceptance?!”

Well pretty low obviously. He’s not expecting an answer right? I already told him I’m not the gay welcoming committee, maybe I should have also specified I’m not a gay agony aunt either. However facing me now, speaking directly to me, he isn’t finished.  
“I love him Craig!”  
His cheeks flush as he drops my gaze looking to the floor.  
“Things happen. Things get said between us. I get hope, then the second anyone finds out he won’t talk to me? Hell I get he doesn’t want to be out yet! Neither did I! But he’ll spend the night with you?! What the hell is that?!”  
My own cheeks are flushing now, people seriously need to stop making that assumption. He reads me wrong; my blush means something else to him now. His fists clench at his sides as he growls through gritted teeth.  
“Maybe I should fuck Tweek!”

My head explodes with explicit images; face scrunching in pained disgust. Their limbs intwined, red hair on the pillow beside blonde. “No!” If he hadn’t stepped back to quickly I wouldn’t have realised I’d yelled. My heart cracking at the thought alone, fuck that hurt. My eyes narrow in on the boy in front of me, I’m beyond pissed now. How fucking dare he. 

In that moment I do something, something that I don’t even recognise about myself. I don’t gossip. In fact my friends will tell you, usually I’m the safest person to let your secrets be known to. Half the time I’m not listening; the other half I either don’t care enough, or it pertains to one of the people I do care about enough. But without thinking it falls through my lips coated with malice, I want him to hurt too. “Stan isn’t straight. He told me last night after I took my shirt off. There, satisfied?” Heavy silence hangs in the air. A multitude of emotions cross Kyle’s face. Because in this moment it’s obvious that neither one of us is remotely satisfied. 

I see in his face that he considers hitting me more than once. To achieve maximum impact, I hadn’t lied, I just left a lot out; left it open for him to decipher. Body sagging he reaches the decision I’d known he would, and in an instant loses all fight; returning to again sit on his bed. Elbows on knees, hands in his hair gripping slightly, he lets out a bitter laugh shaking his head.  
“Well that’s that then. At least you had the balls to tell me.”  
My eyes roll in response, but he isn’t looking at me. He’s too far gone. Guess I won this round too. 

He isn’t angry anymore, sad, hurt, lost? Probably yes to all three. I like to win, I can be somewhat of an obnoxious winner. So why am I not happy now? With a shake of his head he lets out a defeated laugh, finally looking back to me.  
“I’m not sure they even believe it, not fully. My parents I mean, everyone at school does, obviously. So it’s only a matter of time till they do too. But they’re already looking at me differently. They’re trying not to show it; but I see it.”  
His mothers face returns to my memory, my fathers sliding along side it. Taking a moment I realise it’s not all that different really, his parent and mine; I suppose him and I.  
“And then there’s Stan, his parents wouldn’t give a fuck anyway. But he gets to stay hidden.”  
His eyes finds mine, complete with an accusing stare.  
“More than that, still go around doing whatever and whoever he wants.”  
My eyes roll again, this time he catches it, frowning more and growling. I flip him off starting to speak at the same time as him, eventually over him. “The only person who’s ever ‘done’ me is Tweek. Chill the fuck out. I don’t want anything like than from Stan. He’s all yours. Just stay the fuck away from Tweek.” My words take a moment to sink in, I know they’ve registered when his whole face floods with relief. 

I got my answer. In turn more questions. But he doesn’t hold the answers and I don’t need to be here anymore.


	11. Chapter 11

I’d fully intended to leave, hell I was half way through his bedroom door, before he spoke again accompanied by a heavy sigh.  
“I don’t wanna fuck Tweek. You can quit worrying.”  
His words rooted me in place, because yes that was one thing I could stop worrying about; there’s just also so much more. I mean hell even if Kyle isn’t in the picture, that doesn’t change the most pressing worry; Tweek’s sudden indifference towards me. I’d remembered Kyle’s earlier meltdown; my realisation that we at the very least shared some common ground. I don’t know why, but I’d turned around and gone back in. I’d listened to his ramblings, let him spill his thoughts. 

I’d learned of the constant pressure he felt, both on an academic and personal level, from his parents. I’d discovered that it was around the time my own sexuality had become public knowledge, when he’d fully figured out his own. Received more details on what had happened up until now with Stan; evidently he cheated on Wendy more than once. Though unluckily for them she’d caught them having gone further than just making out as they had been before that. Then he’d turned to his friends. He didn’t have much to say about Kenny. Hell at this point I guess he’s the only one to have remained constant recently. But as he moved on to Cartman’s recent personality transplant my mouth had gone dry, breath hitched; because every word had sounded familiar. 

The sheer confusion he’d shown on the subject had reflected my own feelings towards the Tweek that isn’t mine. More similarities. Fuck I guess it’d felt like it somewhat united us? Regardless he’d hit the nail on the head, said the magic words. I’d never had any intention of sharing what I’ve come to believe may be my own madness. But in that moment he’d broken the dam, words spilling out of my mouth with ferocious current. 

I’d spoken fast, forcing him to work in order to keep up. Typically I don’t share shit, so he should feel privileged regardless. I’d mirrored his thoughts on Cartman in relation to Tweek. Admitted that he didn’t seem to know who I was, I mean he knows my name sure, but he doesn’t know me in the way that he should. Fuck I’d even let loose about my family. At least that gave him an answer for why I’d stayed at Stan’s. This part seemed to surprise him most actually, I suppose he’d thought my parents were different to his. The whole while I’d been all too aware that in opening up, I’d also made myself vulnerable. But hell he’d done the same, I was just making the playing field even. 

I’ve always considered Token to be the smartest guy I know. The truth I guess is he’s the smartest guy in the world I’ve created for myself; burry myself in. Yet as I’d spilled the details, details which even my friends don’t currently know, Kyle had listened to me. Just listened, not cut in at all or given me any looks to suggest he believed me to be insane. Regardless I’d been embarrassed by how much of myself I’d revealed. Quickly looked away once I’d finished. Avoiding the expected judgemental stare. He’d been silent for too long, I’d been regretting it. Then he said the sentence I’d been repeating in my mind and simultaneously trying to dismiss. “Maybe the Cartman and Tweek things are related?” My eyes had returned to his thoughtful face; I could see him trying to apply logic to the situation. In that moment I’d realised, Token may have competition. 

Time once again hadn’t existed, both of us having clearly been holding in too much for too long. My own thoughts had come out easier than I’d ever believed they could, with anyone let alone Kyle. When I’d arrived it’d been for conflict. Immediately battle lines had been drawn, Kyle and I had taken turns it, defending ourselves and attacking each other. A back and forth of spite filled words and child like pettiness. Yet somehow, somewhere within the misplaced malice, a truce had been reached; we were on the same side. In that moment I’d decided I trusted him. 

Eventually Sheila had opened the door, not bothering to knock. The sudden sound had pulled both of us from the moment with a jump, heads snapping to the door. Relief had instantaneously washed over her face seeing us; I guess she’d been happy we were both fully clothed? Without explanation for her impolite entrance, and ignoring Kyles protests about privacy, she’d insisted I stay for dinner. I had, it was fucking awkward. But I’d needed it; hadn’t realised how hungry I’d been. Luckily afterwards I’d been able to excuse myself; the cold night air slapping me in the face as I’d left. 

By this point I’m not sure how long ago that was. My legs carried me in a familiar direction but halted upon reaching it. I have no idea what to do. My head is circling options, yet none seem viable. Though I’ve finally spoken to someone about the way Tweek has been acting, neither of us had been able to come up with an answer as to why, much less a way to resolve it. Unease is sitting in my stomach; and with it comes a wave of nausea. My eyes are trained to Tweek’s lit up window, a window I’d normally be knocking at. But I can’t; the boy inside wouldn’t understand. More than that I doubt he’d let me in, and I don’t think I can handle another rejection from him today. So instead I’m lurking in the shadows like some kind of creepy ass stalker. This is a new low. 

I stayed until the house succumbed to darkness, and with a resigned sigh turned to leave; silently hoping that I find my next destination the same way. If their is a god? Well he doesn’t share his followers views on gays; because my wish is granted. Standing before my own dark house I let out a breath I hadn’t been aware I was holding in. 

Ironically I actually do have my keys, unlike my phone and wallet which would’ve been really fucking useful recently. I push the thought aside, I’m not using them. It’s too risky, I’d have to cover too much of the house. This would increase my chances of getting caught; fuck that. So instead I creep through the back gate and eye up my own drain pipe, a direct route to my room. Without much consideration I decide if Tweek’s can hold me then so can this, and begin my accent. 

On the bright side, I was right, for the most part it’s holding steady. Unfortunately I also hadn’t considered how much harder it would be to open and climb in the window by myself. Slipping more than once, but thankfully saving myself from falling, I find myself once again cursing myself for acting before thinking it through. Stubborn as ever I still managed it, eventually, I just also acquired some more bruises and scratches in the process. Hell if I keep this up I’ll be a walking bruise soon. In the instant my feet make contact with the ground I’m stumbling on weary legs towards my bedroom door to lock it. I need to create a more solid barrier between me and my family; I don’t plan on seeing them whilst I’m here. Having done this I finally feel a sense of relief. Leaning back against the door I let out a shaking breath before briefly scanning the area, pretty much everything is the same. 

My eyes fall to Stripe’s cage in the corner and my face softens, a grin playing on my lips. Hurriedly I make my way over to the cage, taking note of the fresh food in his bowl; I’ll have to remember to thank Ruby at some point. Teeth nibbling on my bottom lip I, slowly, in order to remain quiet, open his cage and scoop him out. Unaware of my intentions he immediately lets out a string of excited squeaks. I cringe a little my breath catching, holding it as I listen for any further sounds. None come, allowing me to relax again, releasing said breath as I hug him to my chest. “Fuck I’ve missed you.”

Legs tired I sink to the floor still cradling the small creature, thumb rubbing gently over his head. As always he’s content with this, settling down against me. Animals have an amazing way of relieving stress, and right now I’m calmer than I’ve been in days. Not for the first time I wonder how it is that something so small can take up so much room in my heart. 

This of course shifts my thoughts to Tweek. He doesn’t take up space in my heart; he owns the damn thing. From the moment I’d know he wanted it, until now when he doesn’t; no even now. It belongs entirely to him. Each beat holds his name and in turn he’s pumped through my body. Eyes squeeze closed, head resting back against the wall. I wasn’t exaggerating about how much I’d missed Stripe, but damn, Tweek is on a whole other level. Without him I’m existing rather than living. 

Time really is a strange concept, generally it controls out lives. However the fact that for the most part of this week I haven’t had a phone has left me without constant knowledge of the time. I mean my life has also felt out of control so maybe those things are connected. 

Eyes now more adjusted to the dark of my room I’m able to study it more clearly. Given my current thoughts it’s hardly surprising that my eyes land on the clock beside my bed; a relic of my childhood, shaped like Redracer. Its glowing numbers read just past 1AM and I relax further knowing my families sleeping patterns. Theoretically I’m safe. God my bed looks inviting right now. 

Internally I debate the prospect, decision made I place a soft kiss to Stripe’s head before setting him back in his cage. Smiling, I watch him readjust to his surroundings before turning, strolling over to crawl onto my bed. I’d only decided to lay down and rest, my body had other ideas and within seconds I’m drifting out of consciousness. 

Though sleep had come readily enough, it was uneasy. My mind seemingly not content with torturing me during my waking hours. Scenario after scenario playing out in my mind. Each and every one ending the same way, Tweek telling me how little I mean to him; before turning his back on me and leaving. It replays countless times, each one I try a different approach; yet nothing works. He just doesn’t care. I’m stuck in place watching him fade from my view; from my life. 

Torn from sleep in a cold sweat I don’t immediately remember where I am. However as I do realise, the sound of birds chirping outside alongside the fact my room is now light only adds fresh panic. As suddenly as I’d fallen asleep I’m now awake, eyes darting to my alarm. 5:30AM, Thank fuck for that. I allow my eyes squeeze closed with relief momentarily before snapping them back open. It’s been to dark when I’d arrived to notice, the fact that it’s black not aiding that. Now in daylight it sits in front of me, on top of my bedside table beside the clock; my wallet. 

That wasn’t there last time I was here. No matter how many times I think back that fact remains the same. I’m sure of it. I had it on Friday, I keep it in my back pocket. Didn’t I? No, I did. I’d gotten Tweek coffee at lunch and didn’t go home from school. I had it. I know I did. And Friday, well Friday my pants hadn’t come home with me. What? How? What? My mind is racing and once again I can’t make sense of anything. Lost in my thoughts I almost let time slide through my fingers again; almost. It takes all of my will power to let it go, not completely, just enough so that I can focus. I push it to the back of my mind; bury it. Because right now I need to get the fuck out of here.


	12. Chapter 12

Wallet now back in its rightful place, at least something is, I force myself from my bed, moving over to my wardrobe. I really hadn’t put as much thought into this as I should have. Sighing I pull out a bag to push clothes into. My mind is in two halves, one screaming at me to be fast, the other reminding me to be quiet. This of course is making the task take longer than it should; I’m running out of time. 

Though there is no human noise to be heard, the house isn’t silent. Pops, creaks and groans rattle through the building around me. Realistically I know that this is most likely a reaction to temperature change; the heating should be starting up. But as I zip the bag closed a small smile plays on my lips. 

Rationality is, despite how things currently seem, usually one of my strengths. But not Tweek’s. Maybe that’s why we work so well together; we balance each other out. Where my mind had heard these sounds and drawn a simple conclusion, I know from a previous conversation that Tweek sees these things differently. The first night I’d stayed with him till he’d slept I’d seen for myself. 

So absorbed in him I hadn’t noticed the sounds his house was making around us, they aren’t important; don’t matter. My each and every sense is trained on him, that’s how I realise something else going on. In a split second his body had gone rigid, hand tangling itself in his blonde locks, frown creasing in his brow. His unease brings about my own frown, hand reaching for his; forcing it from its grip. Teeth gnawing at his bottom lip his eyes find mine; they’re filled with fear. I feel a pang in my chest, my face immediately softening. “What’s wrong?” His cheeks flush as he lets out a strangled groan in return. 

My hand finds its way to the spot his hand been, massaging the spot he’d assaulted. “Tell me, it’s me.”  
And he did. After a moment of hesitation his teeth release his lip, a small shaky breath tumbling from it as our eyes connect. I see his fear, embarrassment; in turn I hope he can read that I don’t want to judge, just help. My chest flutters as he seemingly finds it and nods slowly.  
“O-Okay.”  
Speaking quickly, frantically, hands reaching to scratch at his arms or pull at his hair more than once. My own hands eventually capturing them to hold in place. He revealed to me a concept I’d assume he’d first created in childhood. Fascinated I hang on to every word, learnt that to Tweek these noises were proof of life. In his mind houses themselves are alive; in turn the noises are the house existing, breathing, groaning hell even screaming. But further than this, houses like humans, can be separated into good and bad; intentions pure or evil. According to Tweek we can tell this difference between the two by the energy they give off. 

His eyes are wide, he’s shaking a little. Honestly I could listen to his rambling all day, but I know that isn’t good for him; he’s spiralling. My hands squeeze his as I whisper his name, pulling him slightly back to me, enough so at least that my next move won’t startle him. As soon as his eyes find mine I’m leaning in. My lips meet his gently, I feel his gasp against them before stating to deepen the kiss, before long he returns it. His soft lips on mine set my body on fire; I could also do this all day. However full of reluctance I pull back to look back at him. He isn’t shaking anymore; though does look shocked at the sudden loss of connection. Before he can question it, my fingers trace lightly over the back of his hand as I speak “how does the energy feel here?” He blinks at me, knots his brow a little in confusion before remembering what he’d been saying moments earlier. I watch him consider my question before leaning to press his lips back to mine.  
“It feels good.”

Bag now full I glance to the clock, zipping it closed as I tare myself from the moment. My fingers find and pinch the bridge of my nose at I take deep breaths. Upon re-centring myself I move over to Stripe’s cage, dropping treats through the bars with a sigh, “I’ll see you soon buddy.” I was half way out of the window before I remembered my door, cursing myself as I clambered back inside to unlock it before finally managing to leave my house in the same manner as I’d arrived. 

As soon as my feet had made contact with the floor I’d been running; out of my garden and away from my house. Trying hard to keep the memory at the forefront of my mind. My lungs are screaming when I finally allow my legs to stop, I have to double over for a minute. Yet as I fight to catch my breath it’s already fading into the background. Shaking my head I grit my teeth, not yet, and step forwards my fist beginning a relentless torrent of knocks. 

His fathers car is gone, suggesting he’s at work. My task along with my knocking become harder with the realisation. I’d estimate it takes at least 10 minutes for a zombie like Clyde to pull the door open, my knuckles are throbbing. Not fully awake yet he’s staring at me with mild disgust at having been awoken, ignoring this I push past him inside, “I’m using your shower.” He blinks confused in response; even if he’d protested I wouldn’t listen, I feel fucking gross. Without waiting for him to wake up enough to form sentences, because fuck knows how long that’ll take, I turn and take myself up to his bathroom, locking the door behind me. 

Eyes closed I step into the stream of water, finally allowed my earlier bookmarked thought to return. Rationally speaking I should be pleased to have my wallet back, but in not understanding how I’m simply confused. The fact remains the same, somehow my wallet returned to my home before I had. This in turn gives me another question: where the fuck is my phone? Yet no matter how much I contemplate the idea, play back the Tweek who isn’t mines words. I come up with the same answer, my phone should be at his. The water is starting to run cold by the time I realise I’m not actually thinking more dwelling; something I’m sure Clyde will be pouty with me about the rest of the day. Letting out a resigned sigh I reach for his body wash, scrubbing my body with what remains of lukewarm water before climbing out. 

Physically I feel better having showered, emotionally I’m just tired, so sick and tired of it all. After pulling on fresh clothes I make my way down to the kitchen where I find Clyde, more awake now, eating. My own stomach rumbles in response, it would seem it’s finally decided it needs to remind me to eat. So as I wait for Clyde to get ready I do, I’m halfway done when I hear him let out a frustrated scream, followed by a string of curses just for me. I guess the water is still cold. 

By the time we walk through the doors of the school building he is, of course, still pouting about it. He’s probably still complaining too but I’m not listening anymore. This place had once been a sanctuary; now it’s contaminated. I’m trapped searching for someone I know I won’t find, yet can’t stop trying. Because if I give up? Then everything becomes pointless and empty and cold. 

I’ve arrived earlier today than I have the last few days; meaning I don’t have to immediately go to class. As Clyde and I make our way through the halls I see Token press a kiss to Wendy’s cheek before separating from her. In the next moment he appears the other side of me to Clyde. I’m trapped, suddenly wishing I hadn’t drowned out my best friends voice; it dawns on me that he’s probably mentioned something which would explain the way they both round on me at my locker. There’s no where to run as they fire questions at me, if I’m honest I’m surprised they’ve let it slide this long. I answer the questions that I can, but there’s more that I myself don’t have answers for. An all too familiar heat rises to my cheeks as I reveal to my friends some of my worries, though I also note that I let less be known to them than I had to Kyle. An odd sentiment really, though when I think about it there’s a key difference, I hadn’t needed to tell Kyle; I’d wanted to. 

The day passes in much the way I’d expected it too; tediously. Lunch has arrived and once again I find myself with eyes trained to Kyle and Tweek’s backs. It’d taken me less time today to decide to go over, but I’m moving in the direction before I reach that point. Eyes fling to the arm which has managed to hook through my own; Clyde’s. I blink in surprise at him before Token’s voice sounds from my other side where he’s walking in time with us.  
“We figured you’d go over there again, and that we’d tag along.”  
Blinking and nodding is all I have to offer in response before we reach the table, and Clyde finally releases me. 

We must have made more noise approaching this time as no one jumps, Kyle finds my eyes offering me a small smile which I find myself readily returning. I’m not watching for my friends reactions but I’m sure this has given them more questions. From where I’m sitting I have a perfect view of the table at which Wendy and her friends sit; meaning so does Kyle. Fantastic. I mean sure if she was just sat there I doubt it’d bother him. But no, she’s stood near by it; but separate from her friends all the same. I can’t make out her words, they appear to be firing out though at the person before her, fucking Stan. 

Token’s eyes follow my gaze landing on the pair, my own leaving them and instead taking in the look on his face. It would suggest he wishes to intervene, however he doesn’t move.  
“What the fuck are these losers sitting with us for?!”  
The voice I loathe most sounds pulling our attention back to the table. I’m blinking now, it’s Cartman, Cartman as he should be. Gone is the nice guy persona. What the fuck? My eyes scan the table finding that Kyle looks equally as confused as me; the Tweek beside me completely bewildered. Anger bubbles in my gut, not at his words, I don’t care about them. No, the cruelty of the universe in returning us this asshole but not my Tweek. 

None of us have responded and he looks ready to say something else. Until that is Stan and Wendy’s whispered argument erupts. Each head at our table, hell all the tables, snapping to find them.  
“I don’t want anything to do with you or your pencil sized penis! I know where it’s been!”  
My face scrunches in response as I cringe for not only Stan, but Kyle, more for Kyle. For no sooner have the words left her lips her stare has found and settled on him; everyone else’s following. His skin matches his hair now, it’s obvious he’d be quite content for a vortex to appear and swallow him whole right about now. Token’s jaw has dropped, eyes bulging as his mouth hangs agape. I return my eyes to the scene in time to see Stan meet Kyle’s gaze before looking back to Wendy. I think he opened his mouth to speak, but instead we all witness something we haven’t seen for a while. He vomits on her. 

Each table of students is alive with chatter; each that is except ours. Every one of us locked in our own stunned silence. Kyle’s knuckles have turned white as he holds on to the table for dear life; unable to stop looking at them. I’m not sure if he’s too stunned to move like Token, or just better at handling this shit than me. Because by now I’d be fucking gone. Tweek doesn’t seem overly fazed by the outburst, Cartman on the other hand is ecstatic. As a smirk takes hold on his face, eyes narrowing on Kyle. I think not for the first time of how much I’d like to wipe that look off of his face.  
“Oh yeahhhh Kyle! You’re not just a Jew anymore, you’re a fag too right?”  
It I hadn’t seen it happen I’d have thought it was impossible for the boy to blush further. But he does, meeting the fatass’ stare and growling.  
“For once in your life can you just shut your fucking mouth fat boy?!”  
My fist tightens around my water bottle at the exchange. 

By this point both Wendy and Stan have left, they set this bomb to detonate yet slipped away from the aftermath. Cartman and Kyle’s back and forth is grinding on me more than usual. After the fourth time ‘fag’ drips from his lips I find myself on my feet eyes narrowed. “I swear to fucking god Cartman. Say fag one more time!” And then he did.


	13. Chapter 13

With Token otherwise occupied with his own internal drama, and the Tweek beside me oblivious to the warning signs, this left the task to Clyde. I smirk when I actually hear him gulp as the words leave Cartman’s lips; we both know he can’t stop me alone.  
“Look at that, one fag sticking up for another.”  
Clyde makes a grab for me, but it fails and in the next instant I’ve sent Cartman tumbling off of his chair to the ground; following him down myself. Clyde lost his balance and fell backwards simultaneously. 

Cartman’s weight advantage is redundant whilst I have him pinned. Everything is red, some people see red; I become it. Warm, sticky wetness is coating my knuckles as they repeatedly slam down on his face. My actions have however pulled Token back to the moment, I only get in about five hits before Clyde is back on his feet, and now aided by Token they’re pulling me off. I fight their grasp for a moment before resigning myself to the fact that between them they’re too strong. 

I feel my body sag some as adrenaline leaves me, smirking at Cartman’s bloody face below me before turning my back to him. Everyone’s eyes are on me and suddenly I’m uncomfortable. Kyle looks stunned, mouth hanging open slightly. Kenny, well if I had to guess from his eyes I’d say he may actually be impressed. Tweek? My eyes find his and for the first time in days there’s fear in them. But it’s not his usual fear; he’s afraid of me. 

Hell at this point I don’t even know what I feel, I just know I don’t like it; I can’t hold his stare. Is this shame? I’m not given the chance to think much on this however. I hadn’t been subtle and it wasn’t just those amongst it who had witnessed my attack. I get a moment of sight relief as Token and Clyde release me; until that is I feel another hand on my shoulder. Tensing under the touch, I turn slowly with a raised eyebrow to see who decided it was a good idea to touch me. My eyes widen as I take in the sight before me and groan, the fucking principle. 

What was left of the lunch hour I’d spent in his waiting room, I’m still here now. With a clock opposite me on the wall I’m literally watching time pass by. Seemingly my class schedule isn’t all that important; it doesn’t matter if I miss class. Of course this brings my mind back to the concept of time; strange. Events that pass in seconds can have everlasting consequences. Things you believe to be everlasting can disappear in seconds. Tweek Tweak. Lover, best friend, family. Everything; he’s everything. To anchor myself in the man made construct that is time I’d made him my constant. I didn’t give a fuck about what time changed around me, us, because he was there. And now he’s not. 

I’m back tumbling down the rabbit hole; but I haven’t fallen I was pushed. A pocket watch ticking in the background, a Cheshire Cat laughing with Cartman’s grin on its face. Nothing makes sense, I’m as mad as the hatter; as lost as Alice. Trapped in a nightmare with time slipping away. I finally understand what my Tweek means when he says it’s too much; because this is. 

The clock tells me I’ve been tumbling thirteen minutes when I hit rock bottom; when my parents enter the room. Nothing is said as they silently take seats, my father looks like he’d quite like to take another swing. It’s obvious my mother has been crying. I’m suddenly all too aware of Cartman’s dried, now cracking blood still adorning my hand and try to make it less visible. Time seems to have slowed down upon their entry, and with it my thoughts shifted. I’m more like him than I’d care to admit. We’re both stubborn and lash out quickly. That thought makes my skin crawl. But for each way we are similar there are several were different. For one if I hit someone they deserve it. I resolve to myself in this moment that I’m never going to let myself become him. 

Seemingly my parents time is more valuable than mine. Less than five minutes after they’d arrived, we’d been sat in front of the principle; listening to his version of events. My mother had apologised profusely, my father throwing daggers at me with his eyes as he interrupted several times to agree on how much of a fuck up I am. I’d remained silent, kept my expression neutral; tried to give off the impression that I didn’t care. But at least part of me did. 

I’d stayed silent at the word suspension, though that required biting my tongue. My mother had tried to protest, but had been overruled by my father. Fucking asshole. So I’d played along and left with them, however now that we’re nearing the car I’m losing my cool. The temperature out here cannot explain the cold sense of dread running through me. I’m not getting in that fucking car. 

Decision made, I stop dead in my tracks, it takes a moment for them to notice and round on me. My mother looks desperate, and hell had it been just her I’d probably just go home. My father on the other hand? Well if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the pavement. Colour is rising through his body, flooding his cheeks. Fists balled and teeth grinding, his rage laced eyes are trained to me.  
“Get. In. The. Car.”  
He growls, his voice is low and hate filled, his composure suggests he’d rather be screaming. Yet in this moment he’s aware of his surroundings, as am I. I however can use them to my advantage. 

Using every piece of strength I have left I meet his eyes and keep my voice even, “no.” His own composure is faltering, the vein on his forehead throbbing slightly.  
“I wasn’t asking boy.”  
I’m all too aware, and don’t manage to stop my eye roll, he growls taking a step towards me. My mother’s hand desperately reaching for his arm as a mumbled ‘please’ slips her lips. His eyes snap to her, giving me time to take a step back; regaining the distance. Seeing my mother recoil under his stare fills me with fresh loathing for the man, she’s scared of him. Letting out a breath to steady myself I pull his stare away from her; back to me. “You can’t make me. I’m not getting in the car. But I could go back in there and tell them why I haven’t been home. Why I’ve been acting out. I’m sure they’d find that interesting.” My words, though adding fresh anger, pierce his bubble; remind him of where he is. He’s halted to the spot unable to even respond. I’ve won, but it’s now or never. So I turn and run. 

I’m not sure that I actually made a conscious decision as to where I was going. But hell its not like I have control over any aspect of my life at this point. Regardless, somehow my legs have carried me to Token’s. Given the fact he’s still at school, whether that decision was conscious or not, it hadn’t been rational. Of course no one is in, which leaves me to sit on his doorstep and let time escape me once more. 

All around me life, time, goes on with me watching. Birdsong fills my ears as my eyes watch a spider spin a web. An intricate artwork really, yet so fragile. A bell jingles pulling my attention to the far left corner of the garden, the cat doesn’t belong to Token. It’s low to the ground, eyes glued to a butterfly; the butterfly has no idea. That’s something else about nature and it’s ignorance to time. If you’re unaware of time you’re not worried about it running out. In a swift movement the cat pounces; whether it knew it or not the butterflies time had been up. With a sigh I glance back to the spiders web. Yes, everything is so fragile. That thought etched into my mind, my eyes slipped closed, body claiming some more, hours?, of sleep. 

I’m eventually pulled back awake when voices sound, one being that of my friend, the other belonging to Wendy. Great. I groan, half in sleepiness, half annoyance, rubbing my eyes before opening them. My eyes find them in the same moment as they notice me, Token offering me a smile, Wendy looking less pleased; but I don’t care. Pushing myself upright with a groan I catch his eyes again grumbling, “you took you’re damn time..” he rolls his eyes in response stepping past me and into his house.

The look on Wendy’s face has only worsened; I’m guessing I’m not the sole cause of her distaste. I still don’t care, so turn and follow him inside. Of course she follows, fantastic.  
“What happened man?”  
Token looks genuinely concerned now, I mean I guess I did just kind of disappear. I sigh shrugging, “I’ve been suspended for a week.” Unable to help myself my eyes turn to Wendy as I continue, “thanks for that by the way.”

From the corner of my eye I can see Token grimace at my words as Wendy blinks at me starting to scowl.  
“Just how is that my fault?”  
I mean, it’s not directly; she just set a chain of events in motion. Eyes rolling I shrug “your lunch time performance, well it set off Cartman. He was ripping into Kyle and I ended up being the one to shut him up.” She blinks more crossing her arms, scowl deepening.  
“Well maybe you shouldn’t be standing up for him.”  
She fires at me, but fuck that; I guess I do care.  
“Maybe you should get the hell over it. You’re not mad at him you’re mad at Stan.”  
Her cheeks are reddening now, I’m getting under her skin. I’m not done though. Shaking my head I let out a scoff, “and talking of Stan? You didn’t love him, you can’t have. It’s not possible! You don’t go around trying to destroy the people you love!”  
“He—“  
She tries to cut in but I’m not listening, not done. “Yeah he fucked up. But it’s done. You can’t hold it over him for the rest of him damn life!” I’m suddenly aware I’m shouting, I take a breath and flip her off to signal I’m finished. Her eyes are narrowed now, head snapping to Token as she growls to him through gritted teeth.  
“Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”

His eyes are wide, equally surprised and unhappy to have been pulled into this. He holds her gaze a moment, mouth opening as if to talk as he turns to me. My arms cross as I meet his eyes, almost daring him. “Tell me I’m wrong.”  
A smirk curls on the corner of my lip as his mouth closes again, pressing into a thin line. Wendy’s watching him too, starting to scowl more. Then he hangs his head, because he can’t; I’m right. It takes Wendy longer than me to realise he isn’t going too, but when she does she turns to storm out with a face like thunder. Token’s hand reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose as the door slams, taking a breath before looking back to me, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  
“Thanks for that.”


	14. Chapter 14

All I’d offered in response was a shrug and an eye roll. She’d asked for it. Shaking his head he turns without another word to walk upstairs. I blink watching him go before following with a groan. Apparently every damn thing I do is wrong. I hear his heavy sigh before I enter his room and let out a smaller of my own. Everything is going so well. 

I know him well enough to realise that he isn’t ready to talk. I’m not good at this shit. I mean sure I understand that other people have emotions; I’m not entirely sure if they’re the same as mine though. Regardless of this knowledge, I seemingly lack any concept of how I’m supposed to react when somebody expresses their own. In the early days of my relationship with Tweek this had come back to bite me in the ass more than once. Until that is I’d realised that always responding rationally is not the answer. Instead this only served to add gasoline to the flames. Gradually, because yes it happens to all of us not just Clyde, I’d learned a new approach. Listen; literally let him vent his feelings but don’t respond. Mull it over, and try to put myself in his shoes. Only then had I been able to really have any understanding of how he was thinking; feeling. 

Chewing at my bottom lip I look over to Token, really look; he seems conflicted. Considering my earlier actions I’d say it’s fair to assume I hadn’t helped. Hell yeah I wouldn’t be impressed if he’d spoken like that to my Tweek. But equally he’d never act in the way she has been. Fuck, no stop. Don’t rationalise. Right so that’s me, my actions, he probably thinks I’ve stuck my nose in where it doesn’t belong. He’s probably right. So I guess towards me he’d feel annoyance? 

But further back, earlier at lunch he’d had a similar, yet not quite so prominent, look then; when looking at Wendy. Wendy who’d caused a scene. I mean sure I had too but that isn’t the point. Token doesn’t like conflict, which makes it somewhat impressive our friendship has survived really; damn it focus! Wendy, I’d say it’s safe to assume she’s the main cause of his conflict. I guess the only way to really know it to ask though. 

Scratching at the back of my neck I sigh walking over to sit next to him on the couch. I have no idea how to start this. Silence engulfs the room as my eyes study him, he isn’t going to make this easy. Eventually home meets my gaze raising an eyebrow questioningly, I figure this is the best chance I have. I’m unprepared when I open my mouth, but I needed have worried as he speaks first.  
“You know I could’ve handled that right?”

I wasn’t expecting that. I mean sure he can handle himself, I do know that. I hadn’t been aiming to stop him just offering my own two cents.  
“First Kyle, now me, since when do you care so much about other people’s lives?”  
Well fuck, he isn’t wrong, typical. I suppose recently I have been more aware of, involved in situations which usually I try my best to avoid. More specifically, since Tweek disappeared. He’s gone, and it’s as if he’s taken part of me with him. When I’m with Tweek I feel like I’m a better person; I want to be one for him. Since when does that extend to anyone else?

Token clears his throat bringing me back to his question. Squeezing my eyes closed I let my head hang and sigh, “I don’t know.” Had I been looking at his face I know he’d look annoyed. I imagine that people like Token and Kyle are so in tune with understanding themselves along with every damn thing else, that the concept of someone not knowing why they feel how they do is seemingly impossible. Still avoiding his gaze I push myself to try to explain, “everything is wrong, Tweek’s wrong, I’m wrong. I don’t understand. I feel like I’m losing my damn mind.”

When I finally bring myself to meet his gaze, where I had expected condemning stare I found only compassion. Heat flares on my cheeks, I’d underestimated him. Because Token seldom holds a grudge, he’s always been a talk it out and clear the air kind of guy, I know that. He in turn I realise knows me; knows how much it took for me to truly tell him how I’m feeling.  
“What happened?”  
A scoff like laugh falls from my lips as I shake my head. “I have literally no idea.” My eyes roll at his raised eyebrow and i sigh, “seriously man, not my usual I don’t know. I’ve been trying to understand myself for days. But I can’t.”

Had I not already been a mess of conflicting emotions, I’m sure I’d feel proud of the confused expression I’ve caused the boy before me. Token isn’t easily confused; maybe I’m not quite a lost cause yet. I can see him processing my words, but he keeps coming up short. Eventually he must run out of avenues as he shakes his head.  
“Explain?”  
So, somewhat, I do. My cheeks burn as I glaze over the last time I’d seen my Tweek, it doesn’t matter if he’s judging or not, that night is mine and Tweek’s; I don’t want to share it. Then, in more detail than before, I explain how he’s changed. I offer up every detail or every exchange I’ve had with the stranger who wears Tweek’s face. Hell I back track when I remember extra points; the bruise, or lack of. I need him to know everything, much like I had with Kyle, because if anyone has any hope of making sense of it at this point, it’s Token. 

My eyes plead with him for answers, his own screwed shut in concentration. His mouth opens and closes more than once, eyes finally meeting mine, but they’re empty.  
“I.. that doesn’t make sense.”  
His voice trails off, my cheeks burn and I can’t hold his gaze. Because now I know that he’s right. It doesn’t make sense and I’m on a nonstop service to crazy.  
“Craig. I’m not saying I don’t believe you.”  
I guess there are stops, breaks slam on and I’m back in the moment. The words looping in my mind, it would be unreasonable to ask for more, but that’s all I needed anyway. 

Of course the last detail of the Tweek from earlier had brought us back to an event from earlier which tied us. With a heavy sigh he meets my eyes again, pushing a smile and shrugging.  
“But what I do know is Cartman cried like a bitch and got sent home.”  
My lips pull upwards immediately as I let out a small bitter laugh, “it’s the little things in life right?” He’s blushing sighing shaking his head. And suddenly I feel guilty, he’d only been trying to lighten the mood, I bite my lip before adding, “serves the fucker right.” His eyes meet mine again before a small smile plays on his lips.  
“I don’t condone your reaction, but I also don’t disagree with you.”  
I’ll take it. 

All too soon he’s frowning again; the conflict is back and this time he can’t meet my eyes. Squeezing his own closed he lets out a heavy sigh.  
“She isn’t how I thought she’d be.”  
Well thank fuck for that because otherwise I’d be reevaluating my view on his intelligence. But remembering my earlier tactic I grit my teeth to bite back talking, actually catch and stop my eye roll. Offering instead a small nod. His eyes blink open, surprised at my lack of reaction; relieved. I feel a small pang of pride set in as he continues.  
“I brought her back here to talk, to tell her that I.. I don’t like this side of her.”  
I’m nodding again and actually biting my tongue at this point.  
“I think I need to end it.”  
His eyes meet mine, and for once he doesn’t seem so sure of himself. 

He’d listed pros and cons, weighed up his options. Talked himself both into and out of decisions before landing on what I consider a middle ground: he at least needs to talk to her. Generally speaking when a problem arises, my default reaction is to avoid it. Token on the other hand is wired differently; he tackles them head first and without delay. I know he wants to do this tonight, I also know he’s too polite to tell me to leave. I hold all the cards, I’m comfortable here; I was hoping to stay. If I lay my hand I’ll win; but in turn he’ll lose. For a change winning doesn’t seem to matter; so instead I fold my hand. “I know you feel like you need to do this, just drop me at Stan’s?” It’s not that I particularly want to see him, I just know I still have half a bag of weed there; I also doubt he’d make me leave. 

Surprise and relief in that order cross his face before he crosses his arms.  
“Why Stan’s?”  
I don’t know why he puts on this act, he knows damn well why. But I don’t feel like playing along and roll my eyes in response.  
“Is that what you did with my money?”  
I blink a little realising I’ve given the game up, and the backhand I’d long expected meets the back of my head. Asshole. A growl rises through my throat as I narrow a glare at him; but then his words repeat on me. I remember the weight in my back pocket and reach in to pull out my wallet, opening it to pull cash out to toss to him. “There, we’re even.” His eyes momentarily burn holes into me, then I guess he remembers that I actually showed tact earlier. Sliding the money into his own wallet he lets it go. 

Only once we’re in his car does he question my wallets return. I in turn tell him about my break in to my own house and it’s sudden reappearance. His brow is tense as he thinks before he speaks.  
“Do you think Tweek took it over?”  
Cold dread floods my body at the thought of my Tweek facing my father that night. The Tweek I’ve sworn to myself I’ll protect. It’s horrific and terrifying. But no, I’ve spoken to the Tweek currently available. Explaining this to Token only adds to his confusion; just as it has to my own. 

By the time we’re pulling up at Tegridy farm no answers have been reached. But I know Token, he won’t forget or stop considering options. I’ll hear more on this yet. A resigned sigh slips his lips as he offers me a small smile.  
“Don’t get high and do anyone you don’t mean too.”  
I pause half way out of the door my cheeks flushing and throw him a glare, “I think you mean /anything/.” But he just laughs and shrugs.  
“I stand by what I said.”  
My eyes roll as I answer him with my middle finger. “Jackass. Good luck yourself.”  
His laughing is cut off with a small sigh and a curt nod. He waits for me to fully remove myself from the vehicle before pulling away with a wave. I don’t envy him. 

As I make my way round to Stan’s barn I feel a chill run up my spine. Unease is laced in the air around me, and a voice. Mumbled and unclear yet frantic. My eyes dart to further behind the building, body presses against it in an attempt to avoid being seen. I needn’t have worried though, Sharon Marsh is the source; and she’s too focused. My brow furrows as I take it the sight before me, she’s covered in mud, holding a shovel and talking to herself. What the fuck? Guess I’m not the only one losing my shit. But I shouldn’t be watching this, and morbid fascination aside I have no reason too. Instead I tare my stare from the woman, shaking my head to try and erase the image, and continue in my intended direction.


	15. Chapter 15

While it had been easy enough to stop looking at, it is considerably harder to stop thinking about. As I approach the door I notice fresh piles of dirt dotted around, this only adds to the mystery. They’re pretty damn big, what the hell is she planting? As I approach the door I’m no closer to any answers, so instead I knock once and let myself in as I had the other day. 

Stan practically leaps from the sofa as the sound of my entrance. His eyes are wild and wide, he looks panicked, no terrified. Hell both I guess, but taking in my stature before him, eyebrow raised he relaxes slightly blushing. Walking in I shrug keeping my eyes on him, “am I really that terrifying?” His cheeks flush, head shaking in response.  
“No, I just thought you were somethi-, s-someone else.”  
His voice trails off, head hanging as he scratches at the back of his neck. Pausing I watch him avoid my gaze before rolling my eyes sitting down. “Right. Whatever.”

Relief washes over him as he sits himself. I imagine the people he’d usually surround himself with wouldn’t let that go, guess today is his lucky day. Well, not completely, the whole school basically heard he has a small dick. I can’t help myself, a chuckle falls from my lips, because let’s face it he’s the kind of guy who would care about something like that. His eyes land on me questioningly.  
“What’s so funny?”  
I meet his eyes with a small shrug and chuckle again, who knows how he’ll take it? “Pencil penis?”  
His cheeks burn red, he looks ready to say something but stops himself. Looking me over again, I guess judging my intent. In an instant his face changes and he’s laughing with me. 

Once the laughter dies down he’s blushing again shrugging.  
“It isn’t though.”  
I blink at him and facepalm starting to laugh again. “Stan I really don’t care.” His blush deepens as he flips me off, I’ll let it slide. In the same moment he must realise why I’m here, as he pushes up to get my stash for me. No sooner than it’s on front of me I’m rolling, Stan doing the same. 

Lighting my own I lean back content with silence. I notice how Stan’s tongue pokes out slightly as he concentrates, it makes him look kind of goofy, though not quite Clyde level. As soon as he’s finished and puffing away the silence evaporates. Unlike me, Stan seems uncomfortable with it; I don’t know if ‘it’ is silence around me or in general. I let out a heavy sigh forcing myself to listen. 

The speed at which he’s talking suggests his brain is moving faster than his mouth. A concept I find entertaining; I figured like Clyde’s, Stan’s brain wouldn’t be capable of that. Away with my own thoughts, concentration is gone. It’s only my name sounding in my voice that brings me back.  
“Craig, lunch, Cartman? Th-thanks.”  
Huh? He heard about that?  
“Kenny told me, and.. well fuck, just, thanks for looking out for Kyle okay?”  
His cheeks are scarlet, eyes dropping from mine as soon as the words are out. I may not know the boy well but I’m pretty sure that was hard for him. I also now know that, at least in some respect, he returns Kyle’s feelings. 

In a bid to avoid me, the conversation as a whole, he begins fiddling with his phone, eventually music flows through the room instead. I’d been content with silence but this is better. Closing my eyes I focus on the lyrics, disabling my mind from much coherent thought, and for the first time in days I find myself starting to relax. Who’d have thought that’d be around Stan fucking Marsh. 

Around seven or eight songs later I’m forced to reopen my eyes as my fingers burn. Flicking the butt into the ashtray I look over to stan again. He’s no longer blushing; he still looks worried. With a sigh I find myself once again getting involved in something I have no business getting myself into. “I don’t get it. What are you so scared of? It’s Kyle, like fuck aren’t you supposed to be ‘super best friends’ or something anyway?” His eyes go wide as the blush creeps back, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish before sighing shaking his head.  
“I-I, fuck I don’t know. I guess.. I’m not sure like you guys? Or I wasn’t, I don’t know”  
I’d been about to roll another, but his honestly takes me by surprise. Instead I roll his words in my head before sighing, “have you told him that?” The increase in his blush answers for him and I shake my head, “he’d understand, trust me.” The look he offers in response suggest he doesn’t; but he doesn’t fight me. 

Again only music is filling the air, I have nothing to say; Stan looks like he has a lot to say, I guess just not to me. I’m fine with that. Instead my mind selects me a thought; the dirt mounds. Obviously to do with Sharon rather than Randy which only adds to my curiosity. Had it been that moron it wouldn’t have surprised me to hear he’d been looking for buried treasure or something. But Sharon is by far the more sensible one, though earlier she’d looked fairly insane. Hell maybe living with Randy has caught up with her. I consider broaching the subject more than once, but how the hell so you start that conversation? ‘Hey stan has your mom gone loco?’ Eventually I give up and shrug, because there’s not a good way really. “Stan? What’s with all the hole out there?”

The instant the words have left my lips I regret them. With flushed cheeks he’d been entertaining to watch, but now as the colour drains from his face, saucepan eyes bore into me, he looks eerie. Unease creeps through me under his gaze, though he offers no words. So in an attempt to prompt him I continue, “I saw your mom with a shovel.” Oh holy crap wrong thing to say, his eyes have grown wider still, something I hadn’t believed possible, I can’t hold his gaze. My head falls to avoid it, though I still feel it. He’s quiet too long, it’s like my words have broken him. I’ve long since given up on an answer when his voice sounds, it’s wavering, he himself sounding full of terror.  
“You shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe?”

In an instant my eyes are back on him, eyebrow cocked, because what kind of a bull shit answer is that? “Why you planning on trying to fuck me in my sleep?” I throw out in a mixture of frustration and half assed comedy. He blinks momentarily, but he isn’t laughing. His fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezing closed he lets out a long heavy sigh before once again looking to me, somewhat pleadingly.  
“Craig, please I’m serious. You need to leave.”  
His words send accompanied by expression send chills down my spine. Stan may be a lot of things, but generally, excluding to his parents, he isn’t a liar. 

I studied him before fully accepting his words and slowly began to nod. Instantaneously relief floods his face, I want to push for an explanation; though I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t get one. This of course means I need to figure out where the hell to go next. Tegridy farms isn’t close to town. Fuck it if he wants me to leave he can drive me. 

I know Clyde would welcome me with open arms; literally, the guy is a big fan of hugs, unlucky me. But having already had to explain to Token today I really don’t feel like a repeat. If my main aim is to avoid explanation? Well then Kyle already knows. Yet with his world in a similar level of turmoil to mine I doubt it’d be the relaxing evening I’d hoped for; also his mom would probably castrate me for the weed. Tweek of course is who I want to go too. But I want my Tweek, not the imposter.

A heavy groan tumbles from my lips as I sigh shaking my head, I’ll figure it out later. “Just drive me to town?” Stan’s eyes glance to his weed, teeth pulling at his bottom lip, assumably internally battling whether he should drive. Realising this my eyes roll as I shrug, “that or I’m staying..” his decision is made, nodding he stands, reaching for his car keys. Pocketing my weed, along with his papers, I grab my bag to follow him out to his car. He keeps his eyes trained to the floor, my own scan the area counting five dirt mounds, but I don’t press the matter further. 

When I leave the car I still have no destination set in my mind. Without rhyme or reason my legs carry me, to where unknown. Were my Tweek currently obtainable I’d be running to him, at present I don’t care where I go.

My mind wonders back, giving full freedom to my legs. It’d been about three years ago when I’d started looking at him differently. I’d always had a soft spot for the boy, but only then had my body started reacting to his presence. No matter how dark my mood had been, how hopeless a situation had seemed, Tweek’s presence provided me a nightlight in the darkness of my mind. In hindsight I can read the signals and see that even then I’d wanted him. I just hadn’t realised it fully, I wasn’t sure. I guess I do know what stan had meant. 

The honk of a goose pulls me back, I’m at Starks pond. A scoff escapes my lips because of course I am. The clearing, our clearing, is within clutching distance. I could be there in seconds. Even without conscious though my body had tried to find him. Everything always leads back to him, so where the fuck is he?! My head is spinning and by now I’m not sure if it’s madness, lack of food or the drugs, my legs give way letting me crumble to my knees as bile rises up through my throat, and in the next instant what’s left of my stomachs contents empties itself. 

Fingers digging into the earth in an attempt to ground myself I find myself gasping for breath, eyes burning as tears stream down my cheeks. Time is gone again and I have no idea how long it takes for me to stand. But fresh waves of nausea run through me as I look up to see Cartman standing in front of me. Hands rush to my face in an attempt to hide the evidence, but he’s already seen. 

I brace fully ready to receive his torrent of abuse and mockery, but it doesn’t come. With a scowl I study his face. It’s perfect, I mean it’s still ugly as fuck: it’s Cartman, but his nose, it’s how it’d been before I acquainted it with my fist earlier.  
“What’s wrong Craig?”  
The voice is his but the words aren’t. It’s his face but it’s not his compassion. It doesn’t make sense. I find myself backing away slowly, eyes never leaving the boy. Unmoving he watches me, he looks concerned. I turn and run. 

Mind racing faster even than my legs left the latter to dictate direction. Of course they continued their earlier task, stopping only once reaching the centre of the clearing. My mind on the other hand is still going. It’s like there’s fucking two of him; Jesus Christ that’s a terrifying thought. I’d assume the universe is using my inner insanity as a form of cruel joke, but there is no humour in madness; no sense to psychosis. The remaining grain of rationality I possess offers one deduction: it’s not only Tweek who’s changed. 

Hands shaking I mange to roll a smokeable, all be it irregular looking, joint and light it; silently pleading for it to take hold fast. Day is turning to night, sky succumbing to darkness. It’s been a long time since I’ve been afraid of the dark, but in this moment I need my nightlight. Eventually the drugs take hold and once again my thoughts are mine to pick and choose how I wish. However instead my eyes train to the sky, the darker it grows the brighter they shine. I know them all, hell I taught them to Tweek. But in this moment I can’t find any, slowly laying back with my bag as a pillow I squint. It’s impossible, but I’d swear they’re spelling out ‘you’re fucked’. They’re not wrong.


	16. Chapter 16

Bitter cold is hanging in the air around me, the earth beneath me slightly damp; though not enough to yet have seeped through my clothes. The mixture should be unpleasant, but I don’t care. In this moment one of the few things I have any control over is my location, I don’t plan on moving anywhere anytime soon. My eyes had squeezed shut and upon reopening the words were gone. Trying again I search the stars in the sky above me for familiar patters, instead they form Tweek’s face. Maybe this is the universe flipping me off? For over 6 months he’d been mine; then in an instant everything evaporated. Mind now slightly fogged I select a memory; the one that had started it all. 

It’d been two weeks into summer break. Token and his family were going on a month long cruise, lucky bastard. Clyde was also going away, though he was less thrilled as to where, his father was flying to Thailand to meet his new girlfriend; or as I call her, much to Clyde’s dismay, his Thai bride. Not trusting His son to be left alone, and I honestly can’t blame him, he’d insisted that Clyde go with him. Of our small friendship group this had left only Tweek and I. A prospect which simultaneously thrilled and terrified me. Because I was ready; I was going to let him know how I felt. 

The decision was made, my mind just had no idea how to go about implementing it. The first few days we’d simply hung out as usual. I’d stopped myself at every opportunity presented. I’d never have admitted the level of fear I felt, but the idea of me actually getting it together to articulate to him, then being rejected, well fuck I’m not sure I’ve ever felt fear like it before. 

After another unsuccessful day I’d returned home later than I should have. My father, having been drinking the majority of the day, had reacted badly. It was hardly surprising, something I’m used too. But it added to the weight of the pressure I was already putting on myself; pressure to do this, do it perfectly. I know better, I know to accept his rage and move on leaving it behind with him. But I hadn’t, I’d reacted; with my middle finger. Usually this is a routine greeting of sorts in our house, but everyone knows not to poke a sleeping bear. Abusive and accusing torrents of anger laced words reigned down on me; hitting all the much harder for the truth they held. 

I’d bitten my lip, held my tongue, let him finish, then met his eyes with an attempt at a defiant stare, turned and left the house again. Legs carrying me back to Tweek, brain calling me out for being such a god damn coward; for not having told him yet. It wasn’t that late, sure it was getting dark, but most parents wouldn’t take a problem to someone knocking on their door now. Moreover Tweek’s parents aren’t ‘most parents’, Hell I’m not sure they’d find it odd were I to knock at 3AM. Despite this something stops me, instead chewing my lip I push through the gate leading to his garden. My eyes immediately dart to his window, in doing so noticing the drain pipe beside it. I don’t even try to fight the smile dancing on my lips as a plan formulates. 

Years of tree climbing in my childhood come in handy now, and without to much difficulty I’m shimmying my way up it towards his window. A hand stretching out to grip the ledge as I reach it, in order to steady myself. For a moment I watch, see him move across his room, then increasing my grip on the pipe with my legs I remove my other hand, reach over and knock softly twice. With wild and wide eyes his head snaps around, finding mine. Conflicted emotions cross his face, I’d put money on him currently internally debating whether this is real. My muscles are burning now, I knock again pleading with him with my eyes. Seeming to notice he rushes over, opening the window and gripping my arms.  
“Jesus Christ! What are you doing man?! You could fall and die.”  
With him now supporting some of my weight, I’m now able to begin pushing my way inside. A fresh smile is on my face due to his obvious level of concern, he on the other hand still looks bewildered.  
“W-why didn’t you use the door? You left through the door.. wait why are you back?”  
Dusting myself down as I steady myself on my feet again, I meet his gaze with a small shrug. “I don’t want to be there, I-I want to be with you.” Heat flares on my cheeks but I push it aside, “can I show you something? Will you come with me?”

He’d agreed quicker than I’d expected, and as we left I’d swiped the blanket draped over the couch. Most of the walk had been silent, other than the few times he’d tried to get me to tell him where we were going. Each time I’d denied him, instead telling him to ‘trust me’. It seems he does, as even when I begin leading him through the woods, though he noticeably tenses some, he doesn’t protest. This I know to be a big deal, dead trees under the moons glow cast shadows, and Tweek fights shadows all of the time; shadows hidden to everyone else. The gap between us is smaller now, his fear causing him to close it. It’d be so simple, easy, to reach out, hold him to my side and promise to fight the damn shadow king myself if I have too. But that’s far too extravagant; not me. So I let the silence remain, feeling grateful that he’d push on through this for me, and lead him out of the woods to a small clearing. 

A small gasp falls from his lips, wide eyed stare scanning the area, both for potential threats and escape routes. I allow myself to watch him, revel in his beauty for a minute, before moving to the very centre of the clearing to lay down the blanket. I look back over to see him pacing around and for a moment I’m worried I’ve misread this, that he can’t take it. But Tweek is stronger than anyone gives him credit for; he fights a constant battle with his mind and he fucking wins, I think he’s the bravest person I know. Then as if he can feel my stare on him he turns to meet it blushing, and smiles fill both our faces at once. Time seems to slow as I watch him as he starts makes his way over, taking his place beside me on the blanket. 

I’ve been coming to this place since I was ten, I’d tried to run away from home one night and stumbled upon it. Like tonight, the sky that night had been clear. Having dreamed of being an astronaut at the time, the vision of stars above me had been mesmerising; I’d stayed the whole night watching them until I’d fallen asleep. Of course I’d had to return home the next day, but I hadn’t minded. Because I had a place of my own, a sanctuary for when everything was too much; to this day I normally end up here at least once a week. Yet never before have I shared it with anyone, never deemed anyone worthy; until now that is. Until Tweek. 

My own nasal monotone voice cuts through the air as I find myself trying to explain this to him, but the words are muddled so instead I cast my eyes to the sky and begin listing what I can see. Initially he’d been only confused, his eyes desperately following my finger as it traced the outline; but he couldn’t see them. As a frustrated squeak fell from the boy beside me I finally realised this. With my teeth gnawing nervously at my bottom lip, I drop my hand to take his, pulling it up with mine to once again trace its shape. His brow is furrowed in concentration, for a moment I think it’s useless, then he gasps blinking, seeing it finally.  
“W-wow! Wh-what is that?”  
His reaction causes me to smile further still, he’s so fucking cute, “it’s the Big Dipper..”

Hands still intwined I’d continued my listing, he seemingly doesn’t mind or hasn’t noticed. Eventually my voice trails off as I run out, I lower both of our hands, yet don’t release his. Still he says nothing, I can feel my heart beating against my chest as of in a bid to escape. My throat is dry and scratchy, I’m lost for words. Though honestly I’ve never been someone who is partially good at articulating my feelings; I don’t generally think before I act. This realised I cling to it: don’t think just act. Before I even have the chance to consider the possible implications my hand squeezes his, bringing his eyes to search mine questioningly. Fresh panic is brewing in the pit of my stomach, it’d be so easy to back out, but I don’t. Instead I let out a shaky fear laced breath before leaning over, closing the gap between us and claiming his mouth with my own. 

He’d gasped at first contact, that alone sending shivers down my every nerve ending. Then he’d tensed for a moment, allowing doubt to start to creep in, yet as I’d been about to pull away defeated he was returning it. His lips are softer than I’d imagined, though as expected they do taste like coffee. One of my hands reaches up cup cup his cheek, his own find their way to my waist pulling me closer still. There’s an old 80’s song my mom likes called ‘Heaven is a place on earth’, and in this moment I’m inclined to agree, heaven is a place on earth, and that place for me is with Tweek Tweak. 

In that moment everything had clicked into place, the stars above us had seemed to give us their blessing. If I could time travel anywhere that’s where I’d go. If I could be encased in a bubble with Tweek again, instead of alone in this clearing, I would be so happy. But as I ease my eyes back open I remain Tweek-less, one last time I search the sky, and right where it should be sits the Big Dipper. Of course it’s been there the whole time, stars don’t change. It’s me who’s changed, me and seemingly half the damn town, my minds playing tricks on me. Is madness a contagion? Or once it takes hold of you do you simply see it in everything before you? I don’t have the answers, but I definitely care. If my brain is giving way to darkness then so be it, but also bring it on motherfucker because I put up a fight.


	17. Chapter 17

The air has turned bitter and my fingers are pretty numb, I’m not sure how long I’ve been here; it’s still dark. Teeth chattering I sit up slowly, opening my bag to pull on an extra sweater and sigh. Realistically I can’t stay here, I’d freeze to death; though to be honest that does sound pretty tempting. It’s only a fleeting thought though, I don’t actually want to die; I’m more inclined to stick around as long as I can to prove a point. I push to stand and after a few fumbling attempts mange to shove my hands into my pockets in search of some warmth, taking a deep gulp of the night air before starting to walk. 

My destination was hardly a decision, merely the only remaining option; besides it worked out the other night. Maybe my childhood thief persona has carried on, because this is the second time this week I’ll be breaking into my own house. It’s ludicrous really but given my seemingly fractured state of mind seems fitting. As I start to edge my way up the drainpipe to my window I allow fear to run through me momentarily before pushing it aside to focus on the task at hand. Having left my window cracked open last time it’s actually easier to pull myself inside this time. As before my immediate reaction upon entering the house is to ensure I remain separate from its other inhabitants. 

Between my nap and the sharp air outside I’m no longer tired, which seeing as my clock reads it isn’t yet 5AM is surprising. The downside to having left my window cracked is that my room isn’t much warmer than the outside had been. It’s only now when I have no specific task to zone in on that I realise my clothes are damp, I hardly expect that’s helping. Starting to remove them my breath catches, goosebumps erupting across my skin as somehow the rooms chill increases. Quickly as I can without much thought as to what, I move to my wardrobe pulling on clothes. My more frantic movements must wake Stripe as high pitched squeaks begin sounding. Finally dressed I roll my eyes wandering over to his cage smiling down at him whispering, “sure it’s alright for you, you have fur.” 

His dark eyes blink up at me questioningly, causing me to smile, in a fluid movement I open the cage and scoop him out to hold against my chest. This of course makes the volume of his squeaks increase, unsettling me slightly. I choose to ignore it, even if my father does wake up I’m sure I can be out of the window again before he manages to break down the door, should he choose that route. Still longing for proper warmth I move over to the bed to climb under the covers. My eyes return to the fluffy creature, his body heat against me feels like a miniature hot water bottle. 

Being the docile creature he is it hadn’t taken him long to settle against me, small chirp like sounds of thanks escaping him as my thumb rubs slow circles over his fur. Not all that dissimilar to the way my fingers move in Tweek’s hair to calm him. Of course that one thought has again given him full access to take over my thoughts. All I really want right now is to be curled up next to him. Safe in his grip, because fuck it yeah Clyde was right, I am the little spoon. 

A frown falls onto my face as I recall my earlier analysis: Tweek isn’t the only one who’s changed. It’s undeniable that Cartman seems too have two personalities currently. But more than that, the Cartman I saw earlier looked different, unblemished. It’s impossible, sure when we were kids Token would run around ‘healing’ us all with snacks and juice packs. But that doesn’t work in real life, if you get a bloody nose and a split lip it doesn’t fucking disappear hours later. A low quiet groan tumbles from my lips, free fingers moving to massage my temple, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. I can practically hear the cogs in my brain turning. Thoughts blending and nothing much making sense. I haven’t fully made the connection when a more audible gasp escapes me. The Cartman from earlier was the wrong one. The Tweek I’d watched days ago in the changing room was also the wrong one, and was also missing a blemish. 

My heart is starting to race as I try to make sense of the realisation. My earlier fleeting thought of their being two Cartman’s suddenly seems the only logical explanation. Which is an oxymoron in itself. The concept of human doubles being logical is beyond ridiculous. Then again if I factor in my probable insanity I suppose what I currently consider logical would be illogical to sane people. Right? Oh god I don’t know. 

Moreover even if the horrifying concept of two Eric Cartman’s was true, surely that’s mean there should also be two Tweek’s? But no, each encounter I’ve had since the night of the party had been with the same Tweek, the wrong Tweek. The Tweek who looks at me but doesn’t see me. With a heavy sigh I stop trying to make sense of the senseless, it’s too god damn complicated. I feel like I’m trying to do long division whilst on a pogo stick. Instead my brain grasps for other possible ideas. None are rational. 

Around the same time I’m considering running head first into a wall I’m pulled abruptly from my thoughts. My breath catches as an alarm from down the hall sounds, eyes snapping to the clock, they’re going to start getting up. Of course I’d known this was coming, just had once again forgotten about the concept of time, this leaving me startled and unprepared. I lower my gaze to the now sleeping rodent on my chest and sigh knowing he won’t like it, before scooping him up; waking him in the process. No sooner have I done it, is he letting out sharp squeaks of annoyance. My teeth find there way to bite down on my lip, willing him to be quiet as I return him to his cage. Luckily for me in the same moment I hear a toilet flush, this sound masking his perfectly. After one last head rub I close him inside and hesitate, looking to the window, before moving back over to sit on my bed. Now I wait, he has to leave for work in about an hour. 

Knees pulled to my chest, head resting back against the headboard I squeeze my eyes closed. I find the less senses you have available, the sharper those you do have are. When in Token’s front garden I’d also been observing, however I’d been free from time; now I’m it’s prisoner. It feels somewhat surreal to be listening to such familiar sounds from a different perspective. Each member of the family, well of humanity I’d imagine, moves in a different way. Each movement made dictates the houses response, with my fathers heavy footsteps the house creaks, my mother’s heeled shoes create a pronounced snap with each step. 

Having heard both of them already go down the stairs had allowed me to relax to an extent. However a soft pitter patter of footsteps has passed the turning for the staircase and is rapidly approaching my bedroom door. Shit Ruby is coming to feed Stripe. My eyes fly open as I attempt to weigh up my options, but her hand is on the door handle, turning it. Of course seeing as I locked it the door doesn’t budge, I can hear muffled confused sounds from the other side as she tries again. Before I can talk myself out of it I’m at the door unlocking it. If it just wouldn’t open she’d get our father. Let’s hope she can keep her mouth shut. 

I hear her let out a small gasp at the click as it unlocks. Taking a breath to steady myself I whisper through the wood, “Ruby it’s me, I need you to be quiet.” Another gasp drops as I start to edge the door open for her, her eyes are wide and hand clamped over her mouth. I can’t help but chuckle softly as I pull her inside locking the door again behind her. In an action unlike her, my younger sister wraps her arms around me, squeezing; taking me by surprise. A faint blush creeps over my cheeks as I chuckle softly, “didn’t realise you’d miss me so much.” Which is true, we aren’t exactly close, we share DNA so we interact, were that not the case we wouldn’t. 

That being said, knowing that she’s been taking care of my beloved pet for me gives me fresh warmth for her. And while we aren’t close we have our moments, she’s at the age where are fathers rage, though rarely directed at her, fills her with terror. More than once I’ve gotten home from Tweek’s to find her cowering in fear in the corner of my room due to an argument between our parents. On those nights it’s my job to calm her enough to sleep also. Knowing that it’s due to me that it’s probably been regularly recently, I feel a pang if guilt in my stomach for not having been here for her. 

Her own cheeks flush as she pulls away from me, rolling her eyes and giving me the Tucker trademark middle finger; I return it with a muted chuckle. All too quickly her face falls as she tilts her head to look up at me.   
“Where have you been? He’s been really bad.”  
Her voice trails off, wavering slightly and the guilt within me intensifies. Alongside it anger is brewing. Mostly anger toward my father for making her feel this way; a smaller level reserved for my mother for putting up with it. Kneeling to match her level I sigh chewing my lip, thanking her for taking care of Stripe, before in the best way I can attempting to explain why I haven’t been home. She nods along with me, though I’m not sure how much she truly explains, luckily for me she trusts me and doesn’t question too much. More importantly she agrees to go back downstairs as if she hadn’t seen me and mention it to no one. I guess she’s pretty awesome if I’m honest. 

My ear was pressed up against my bedroom door from them moment she’d left until I’d heard her start to converse normally with our parents. Again I could relax and resume waiting. Not long now. 

The door had already sounded once, my fathers car left the driveway. My eyes are trained to my alarm and as the time reads 8AM, like clockwork, my mother and sister also leave the house. I give it another five minutes before unlocking my door and stepping through it. My lips curl into a smirk, fingers dragging against the wall as I make my way down the hallway. Smirk developing into a smile as I open the refrigerator upon entering the kitchen. We aren’t rich, and hell there nothing fancy in there, but everything looks irresistible right now. Arms filled with a Clyde sized array of snacks I make my way through to the living room, dropping down on the sofa. Unlike Clyde, my eyes are bigger than my stomach and before I’m half way through I’m stuffed. 

Too full to move I’d simply pushed the remainder to the floor and laid back on the sofa flicking on the tv. It’d worked as a distraction for a while but all too soon my mind is dragged back to the seemingly unsolvable mystery surrounding, well everything. So far I’ve discussed it with the two smartest people I know, and though both had attempted neither had been able to reach a conclusion. With Tweek also being Token’s friend, and Kyle at least in some capacity being friends with the fatass, they’re already invested, intrigued, involved. Maybe it’s time I see if two brains work better than one?


	18. Chapter 18

Despite the fact that recently the concept of coming home had filled me with dread, I’d found it relatively easy to relax; I guess familiarity does that. For the first time in days I could feel the tension leaving my body as I allowed myself to just lounge about on the sofa. It had almost been a novelty to have to keep such a close track of the time, I’d need to leave in time to grab them as school gets out. 

Once I’d been more settled my eyes seemed to notice things that they had merely scanned over before. The family photo which hangs on the wall is cracked, suggesting my father has at some point punched it. When I’d returned the uneaten food to the kitchen I’d also noticed that there were enough empty beer bottles to rival Stan’s man cave. My mind had travelled back to the fear on my sisters face, it’s so unfair. You see the thing about alcoholism? A alcoholic parent doesn’t exist, they’re simply a drunken idiot who couldn’t stay sober long enough to raise their damn kids. 

Time, seemingly realised I was relaxed, and in turn sped up. I mean of course it didn’t literally speed up, I just find that time runs out faster when you’re happy; as if to remind us of our futility. I’d made sure to leave the house as I’d found it, however once the door closes behind me, I’m suddenly not sure. I mentally repeat the checklist in my head, I know I’ve done it all, my minds playing games. The reality being that what I’m not sure about is my current objective rather than my previous. Yet if I let the doubt take hold in regard to that I’m not sure I’ll follow through. With gritted teeth and fists balled in my pockets I force myself to turn and walk away from my home, after all even if I have forgotten something, is it really breaking in if you technically live there?

The walk takes less time than I’d expected, I guess my legs were walking in pace with my thoughts, trying to keep up. Trying and failing. With a sigh I lean against a wall on the pavement in front of the school, waiting for the bell to cut through the air signalling the school day is over. 

Amongst the people exiting Token had left the building first of the two guys I was searching for. Actively searching for anyway; no matter the situation my mind seems to always subconsciously be searching for Tweek. I’d stopped Token and left him waiting confused until Kyle too left the building. This confusion only grew after I pounced on the guy and somehow convinced him to come with us. 

Unfortunately, yet typically, for me my plan hasn’t been completely smooth sailing. I’d been hoping to combine the two biggest brains I know. And while I’ve achieved that I’ve also managed to recruit a brain which though sharp, is primarily focused on reading people and gossip; Kenny. And just to add salt to the wound I also have whatever it is that Clyde is supposed to offer. The former accompanying Kyle, the latter Token. 

Token’s family are having friends to dinner so his house is off bounds. Kyle? Well I’m not sure his mom would give us more than five minutes between checks that her son isn’t partaking in a gay orgy. My house is out of bounds obviously and no one wants to go to Kenny’s. So that’s how this unusual mash of friendship groups ended up at Clyde’s. 

Of course seeing as this situation is due to me, as soon as we’ve arrived and settled in the front room, all eyes are on me. In turn I’m immediately uncomfortable. At this point I’d go as far to say I trust three of them. Kenny is the wild card, sure he took in Ruby the other night but really I don’t know him all that well. Moreover what I do know is that he’s renowned for knowing secrets, and not unknown to gossip. Trying to fight the blush starting to take over I sigh looking to Kyle , throwing a questioning side glance to Kenny beside him, hoping that he’ll somehow read my unease. To my relief he seems better at interpreting other people’s emotions than I am and blinks blushing himself.   
“Kenny won’t say anything will you?”   
I barely stop myself from facepalming, because fuck I didn’t need it announced. But it’s too late now; it’s done. So instead I thrown the blonde boy a glare as he agrees, in hopes of reminding him what I’m like when crossed. 

With that out of the way I’m running out of stalling excuses. The doubtful thoughts are louder, basically shouting in my mind, because it’s one thing to think that you sound insane yourself. Should they agree? Well that’s a little more concerning. My mouth opens and closes, I try more than once to start talking. By this point Clyde is losing patience, almost bouncing in his seat in anticipation. Defeated but not out I choose the next best option and look between Token and Kyle, “think you can fill them in?” Kyle looks confused at first, I suppose it’s not as fresh a conversation. But Token sharp as ever picks up my meaning, takes a breath nodding before starting to regurgitate our conversation from the day before. 

Kenny is wide eyed and fascinated, Kyle is listening intently, Clyde looks completely lost. Token, as I’d anticipated, must have been thinking on the subject without me present and manages to explain things more eloquently than I could have ever hoped too. By the time he’s finished Kyle seems to be mentally replaying our earlier conversation on the matter. Kenny I’d imagine is still trying to process everything Clyde only just having caught up to Tokens first point is grinning, what’s up with this guy? I don’t have to wait long, minutes later looking like an excited toddler he’s practically bouncing in his seat.   
“So Tweek’s being weird with everyone? I thought it was just me?”  
Of course he did, leave it to Clyde to be oblivious to the world around him. I meet his stare with a heavy sigh and finally say it, “that isn’t Tweek..”

As soon as the words leave my lips the three boys eyes are on me, because I sound insane, I’m more than aware of that. But if anyone knows Tweek then it’s me. When he enters a room the damn vibes he gives off change its frequency; at least for me. This new imposter, the Tweek who isn’t Tweek, almost has a completely different and unrecognisable aura. Clyde of course responds with his face, making no attempt to hide his clear views on my mental state, thanks best friend. Kenny though looking somewhat bewildered, covers it better. I mean at least no one has out right said it yet I guess. 

Kyle seems to take the silence falling over the room as a signal for him to start, his version containing more of the fatass’ sudden changes than Tweek’s. This time Kenny actually finds himself nodding along through some of it. As Kyle trails off I’m expecting silence but instead Kenny’s voice fills it.   
“The night after the storm, Eric brought a box of supplies to my house..”   
Kyle’s head snaps to his almost as fast as my own, this must be new news to him too. But it perfectly illustrates the point, it’s completely out of character. In this moment I find myself actually thankful for the blonde’s presence. 

My mind travels back to the two versions of Cartman I seemed to cross yesterday, and brings me back to a detail as of yet I haven’t broached to anyone; the blemishes. Unsure how to zone in on that I decide to start broadly, “was Cartman at school? How was his face?” Token’s eyes roll as he looks to me.   
“Really? You don’t remember how you left it?”  
My eyes roll back in return and I flip him off shaking my head, “no just I saw him last night and it was healed as if by magic.” His brow creases in response shaking his head.   
“It can’t of been, he looked like Hell today.”  
The other three boys are nodding in unison and unease is creeping through me. More so than earlier even, I’d attribute these looks to them questioning my sanity. So at this point I figure I may as well just say it, “it’s like there’s fucking two of him..”

Stunned silence seems to echo around the room, my own head hanging as soon as the words are out, in aim of avoiding the judgemental stares. Before they seemed to be questioning my sanity, now I’d imagine they’ve reached their conclusions. Clyde of course is the one to break it, tact having never been his strong point.  
“Craig, are you high?”  
My narrowed eyes snap to him, frown etched to them, “no.” I see the nerves cross his face in response to my glare and he’s shrugging.   
“Just, you’ve seen Stan a lot recently.”  
I feel a blush creep over my cheeks and flip him off, “I’m not fucking high.” He’s right I have seen Stan a lot recently, however that’s been to deal with the situation, not the cause of it. Suddenly my mind flashes an image of a freshly dug hole, Sharon’s frantic whispering, there’s something odd going on there too. But unsure yet as to whether, let alone how, this would be connected I decide to leave it for now. 

Token, in reaction to the mood change, plays peace keeper. Once again he’s listing points, but more to himself than us this time. Kyle is nodding along, I’d imagine equally lost in thought. In this moment I find myself feeling grateful towards both of them. Unfortunately twenty minutes and zero answer later I’m becoming impatient. As token repeats himself again my eyes roll without me even thinking about it. Token himself finally seems to find some annoyance, a sigh tumbling from his lips and shaking his head at me.   
“If you keep rolling your eyes like that you’re gonna end up in another dimension.”

I flip him off huffing in response; but his words have brought Kyle to life. A grin slowly creeping over his face as his eyes light up, attention solely on Token.   
“That’s it! Token you’re a genius! Holy crap I could kiss you right now!”  
Token blinks confused and embarrassed as everyone turns to face Kyle in stunned silence. Unable to stop myself I shrug, “I dunno man, I really don’t think Wendy would like that.” His eyes widen, face falls, cheeks flushing to match his hair. Token’s mouth drops open as he blinks at me. Clyde and Kenny dissolving into laughter. Completely flustered at this point it takes Kyle a moment to pick up where he’d left off, clearly deciding the best course of action is to ignore me.   
“I mean, there’s no proof of alternate dimensions, parallel universes, but there also isn’t any absolute proof that there isn’t..”   
Well damn, maybe I’m not insane? That or we all are.


	19. Chapter 19

Kyle’s blush had only increased as the rest of us studied him, still processing the words. Well almost all of us, Token once again looks deep in thought. I’m not sure how to respond. Whilst it would go a long way to explaining this bullshit it still leaves one prominent question; where the fuck is my Tweek. I mean why would both versions of Cartman be here but not Tweek? Does that in turn mean he’s stuck in the other dimension? Fuck, I really hope not, I’m not sure how he’d cope with that. But also how the hell did this happen?

With token and Kyle absorbed in their phones, assumably attacking Google for answers I’m left for a while to deal with my internal torment. Until that is Clyde finally catches up. A goofy grin has taken over his face as he pulls me back to the moment.   
“Damn this is so cool.”  
Eyes trained to him with a raised eyebrow I feel like punching him. Sure I’ve felt like I’m going insane, there are two Cartman’s, Tweek is awol and apparently alternate dimensions exist. But leave it to Clyde to find it fucking ‘cool’.   
“I wonder what alternate me is like?!”  
Unaware he continues and my eyes are rolling again, maybe Token has a point. Seriously though, I know he’s my best friend, but jeez he can be an egotistical asshole. I shrug finally pulling him from his self centred drivel, “hmm let’s see, probably intelligent with a girlfriend.” His eyes snap to me, mouth hanging open like a fly trap. Hurt crosses his face as his bottom lip starts to waver, oh for fuck sake. It takes me an inhuman amount of strength to hold back my groan and not tell him to stop being a crybaby. But they just sat here listening to me and no one outright suggested having me sectioned, for once I play nice. “Though they’re also probably a terrible friend, a general ass of a person and ugly. Relax man I’m not planning on trading you in.” Blinking his grin returns, I recognise what he’s about to do before he does it, though not quick enough, and in the next second he’s lanched across the room to hug me. Guess that’ll teach me to be nice. 

This time the groan is out before I can stop it, I try to pry him off but it’s useless. Kenny is watching us bemused, and twisting my arm still in Clyde’s grip I manage to flip him off. Eventually Clyde relinquishes his vice like hold on me, much to my relief and giving me back space to think. He has a point, impressive I know, if there’s alternates for Cartman and Tweek, then it’s only logical for there to also be alternate versions of the rest of us. If my Tweek has somehow ended up there, he’ll be confronted with an alternate me. Oh god now I’m as self centred as Clyde, wondering what the hell that’d be like. 

I mean, I’m kind of a cynical sarcastic asshole, maybe this other version of me is a better version? Craig 2.0? Fuck I mean, what if he prefers them? A pang of fear pulses through me. Right now I cannot imagine us figuring this out. But if we do, and Tweek doesn’t want to come back? I’m pretty sure whatever remains of my soul will shrivel up and die. I can feel my heart starting to beat faster, palms sweating, I’m starting to freak the fuck out and I need to not be. This isn’t fucking fair, he’s the one thing that calms me down; not supposed to be the cause of my anxiety. Gritting my teeth I push up to leave the room. I’m not doing this here. 

No one had commented as I’d left, I’m not sure either Kyle or Token had actual noticed, both too absorbed in their research. I did see both Clyde and Kenny raise eyebrows though. Again I’ve found myself in my best friend bathroom having an existential crisis of sorts. Time is a foreign concept again but also has me wondering if this supposed parallel universe shares our time. Time is irreversible, you’re born, age then die. I’d always considered it that simple. But this is reliant on the assumption that time is linear. That would mean the events currently taking place are building, leading towards either a beginning or an end. My mind already clouded with anxiety is unable to construct any plausible beginning which could arise from this, meaning that instead it’s leading to an end. The end of Tweek and I? Heat is flooding my cheeks as I fight back tears at the thought, I guess Clyde is rubbing off on me. 

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, I know it’s been quite a while. My head aches and my eyes sting, I fucking hate crying. I’ve heard the front door open and close more than once. Hopefully that means some of them are gone, the less people who see me with red puffy eyes the better. Sure Token and Clyde have seen it before, not often, but they know it happens. Hell I don’t think Kyle would judge me all that much, he never seems to have with Clyde. Kenny however, I don’t trust him, sure he’s helped some today, but that doesn’t change the fact he’s a fucking gossip. He doesn’t get to see me like this, I’ll stay here all damn night if I have too. 

My mind seems intent on torturing me in scenarios in with an alternate version of myself would be better for Tweek, hell I bet he’d have known straight away how to deal with Tweek’s irrational fears. But not me, no I had to learn. The tears have stopped, that’s something, but the emotions are too close to the surface still. One wrong thought or word and they’ll bubble up and spill out. I feel so fucking weak. 

I’m not prepared when there’s a knock at the door, I even jump. Teeth clenched I remain silent trying to ignore it. The knocks had been easy enough to drown out. But when they faded Clyde’s voice replaced them filled with concern.   
“Craig, it’s just me. Everyone’s gone home, dude open the door.”  
I don’t want to. I don’t want to be seen, I don’t want to be judged. Right now I’d quite like to disappear; which is ironic as Tweek’s disappearance is the primary cause of my turmoil. But this is his house, and he’s my best friend. So instead I, as slowly as humanly possible, move to unlock the door. My hand hovering over the handle as I try to prepare myself. But he doesn’t give me time, as soon as he hears the click he swings the door open, smacking me in the face in the process. 

My vow of silence is broken as instead a string of profanity’s tumble from my mouth to fill the air. Clyde is wide eyed and apologising repeatedly. My face is throbbing as I trail off finding his gaze. “Thanks for that. Really fucking helpful man.” His face falls further and I sigh shrugging him off as I push past him to walk into his room. In all fairness that did clear my thoughts, I guess Clyde was successful for a change. Chewing his lip and still muttering apologies he follows after me. My eyes roll as I groan, “I get it you’re sorry!” He sighs sitting down opposite me blushing finally shutting up. 

He’s knows me well enough to know that the look on my face says I don’t want to talk. I know him well enough to be able to tell he’s finding that difficult. It’s inevitable that eventually he will be the one to break the silence; probably sooner rather than later. Till then I let my aching eyes slip closed, grateful for the peace. My breathing slows as I calm myself down some, eyes flicking back open to look at him. He’s fidgety, his cheeks are caved in suggesting he’s biting down on the insides to stop himself talking. This isn’t going to last long.

Mere minutes later my prediction comes true as a heavy sigh leaves his lips, his eyes finding mine. But he looks hurt, I hadn’t expected that.   
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
Really? Why didn’t I tell you about my insanity? I’m annoyed now that he’s making this about him, but he isn’t finished.   
“I thought we were friends, best friends? Why wouldn’t you trust me with that?”  
Oh fuck. He really thinks that’s what this was? Okay now I feel like an asshole again. I mean I am right? I run my hand down my face, wincing slightly having forgotten about its earlier meeting with the bathroom door. He’s watching me, waiting expectantly. I chew on my lip sighing because how do I answer that? I have no idea but I’ve got to at least try. Words tumble out of my lips, details about my own inner turmoil; words that until now I haven’t said aloud. Because sure he isn’t the smartest guy best suited to helping me figure practical things out. But he’s a good guy with morality, and realistically I know he’d do anything for me. Though I’d never admit it that feeling is pretty mutual. I probably give him too much of a hard time. When my voice trails off, cheeks burning as I avoid his gaze, he predictably wraps his arms around me squeezing. This time I don’t fight it. 

Eventually he pulled back, much happier now. And surprisingly I feel a bit better too. Though still slightly guilty for leaving him out. In an attempt to show him it wasn’t anything personal I figure I may as well let him in on the other odd situation I’d stumbled upon the day before, Sharon. Of course that’s easier said than done, well for me anyway. I can’t even put it down to pressure, any expectation has already left his face. Time after time I open my mouth to speak yet no words come out, I’m thinking too much. Eventually, frustrated with myself, I give up any hope of tact and just blurt it out, “Stan’s mom was acting really weird yesterday. Actually he wasn’t much better.” Wide eyed, and I think somewhat astonished at the fact I’m offering up information so freely, his eyes are back on me.   
“Weird how?”  
God where to start, chewing my lip I shrug, suddenly uncomfortable, feeling like a gossip; like Kenny. “Just.. talking to herself? There were holes all over the place.” I trail off with a small sigh and a shrug, but I’ve only confused him further.   
“Holes? What do you mean holes?”  
I sigh louder shrugging again “I mean holes. You know, people dig them? Just.. they were pretty big.” His eyebrow has raised in response.   
“Pretty big? Like what? Cat sized? Dog sized? Person sized?”  
The goofy grin on his face shows he isn’t serious. But my face pales as I realise one of his guesses was right. Holy shit they were human sized.


	20. Chapter 20

Clyde of course had remained oblivious to my realisation, and obviously hadn’t found the topic overly interesting as he dropped it. I haven’t stopped thinking about it though. Even now with Clyde snoring beside me, my eyes are burning holes into his ceiling above me. Each hole at Stan’s could easily hold a human, be a grave; and Sharon had seem deranged. Surely I’m jumping to conclusions? While yes Sharon hadn’t exactly seemed of sound mind, I think it’s a bit of a stretch to assume she’s a murderer. However Stan’s words and pleading tone repeat in my head, ‘you shouldn’t be here, it’s not safe’.

I roll over with a groan burying my face in the pillow. I should have fucking pushed him on it, I’m sure I could’ve gotten more out of him. But no, like usual I’d ignored it, seen it as not my business, but hell if there are people in those holes I think maybe it’s everyone’s business. Fuck I need to talk to him. But how’s that going to go? Hey stan has your mom murdered anyone lately? Christ I wish I possessed some tact, at least I have the school day to consider it tomorrow. Clyde doesn’t know it yet but I’ll be spending the day here. 

Hours of tossing and turning eventually lead to uneasy broken sleep. Sleep filled with disturbing dreams. Clyde’s alarm sounds at 7AM and wakes me but not him, were it on my side of the bed I’d have thrown the damn thing at a wall. Instead I shake the boy beside me until he wakes enough to shut it off. Predictably no sooner has it stopped than his snoring picks back up. I swear to god Clyde could sleep through a bomb going off. I’m wide awake, yay, which also means now it’s going to be down to me to wake him. Fan-fucking-tastic. With a small sigh I squeeze my eyes back closed for a few minutes, preparing myself for this mammoth task before pushing out of bed, pulling the covers with me. Immediately he’s whimpering, still asleep, desperately clutching at air in an attempt to reclaim them. Good luck, they’re now on the floor. 

Despite my efforts fifteen minutes later he’s starfished across the bed still snoring. My limited patience is wavering, were I not planning on at least attempting to nap at some point today, I’d already have emptied the glass of water on his bed side table over him. So instead I firmly grip one of his legs and tug him from the bed. Something I soon find out to be harder than it used too, boy needs to lay off the tacos. None the less I eventually mange it, thump echoing through his room as his body makes contact with the floor, and the snoring finally stops. Success. 

It is however replaced with whining about my ‘mean way’ of waking him. I don’t care, my job is done and I’m out. Turning to leave his room and walk downstairs, he should be happy, I could’ve let him be late to school. Making my way to his kitchen I move to make coffee, something I actually haven’t done in a while. Tweek loves the stuff, I’ve actually had to make him cut back some seeing as it doesn’t help with his anxiety. I’ve always found it too bitter myself, unless of course it’s on his lips, but given how little I’ve slept I figure it may help. Pot set to boil I move to his refrigerator, knowing already that it’ll contain little of nutritional value. That went out of the window after Clyde’s mother died, in fact I’m not sure either him or his father can cook. 

I’d eventually found both milk and eggs to be in date and later bread, scrambled eggs on toast it is I guess. I know this house as well as my own, they aren’t overly dissimilar, therefore this task is easy enough. The look on Clyde’s face when he finally stumbles in however would suggest he doesn’t share this view.   
“You’re cooking?”  
What gave it away? My eyes roll as I merely nod in return causing him to grin.   
“Sweet!”  
He’s lucky I made him some too I guess. Though I mean it is his food so I suppose that’s expected, he’s already helping himself to coffee. 

Breakfast ready I set a plate down for him before taking my own seat. In that moment he’s already began shovelling it down, complete with chewing sounds. Great there goes my appetite. With a heavy sigh I watch my oblivious best friend. Half his hair is flat to his head, the other half sticking up like some sort of deranged hedgehog.   
“Craig this is awesome!”   
He spits out through a mouthful of food. I nearly gag. Turning to avoid being treated to the sight of his half chewed food, I think to myself it’s fucking eggs Clyde, Jesus you need to take home economics. Eventually he finishes and I resume eating my own, now cold food, as he goes to shower. At least I can wait till there’s hot water again. 

Though his house is as familiar as my own, once he leaves I find myself shutting myself in his room. There’s no one else here, yet unlike at my own home I still don’t feel the same level as comfort to just laze around. Well I mean I’m laying on his bed, but the door is shut and I feel sperate from the rest of the building. I’m sure there’s plenty of kids who wouldn’t mind a week of no school, and I’m pretty sure if I was there I wouldn’t be focused. Yet I still wish I was, I miss the routine and normality of it. Two things that seem to have taken a running leap away from my life recently. My eyes have been closed but I still can’t sleep, instead of dreams, memories play. 

The kiss had continued, deepened, it was fucking perfect. I’m pretty sure no matter how long it’d gone on I’d have felt it had ended too soon. He’d pulled back first, the grin on his face had my stomach doing somersaults, I could feel my cheek muscles pulling up, I’m probably wearing the same expression. Under the light of the moon I’d swear his porcelain skin is glowing, he’s so fucking perfect. 

Slowly we both layed back on the blanket, our hands once again entangling. Words weren’t necessary, which was a relief to me because at this point if I spoke I’m sure I’d ruin it. I’d swear in his presence even the stars shine brighter. However whilst silence is an old friend of mine, I momentarily forget that Tweek finds words reassuring. As his body starts to tremble I’m forced to remember this. Squeezing his hand I roll onto my side facing him, studying his face. His upturned nose twitches slightly as this perfect orbs he has for eyes scan the sky above us. “Tell me.” My voice cuts through the air making him jump. Guilt rushes through me, head hanging as my cheeks heat at my own stupidity. 

But as well as I can read him, he can me. He turns to face me, squeezing my hand back, remaining silent. He wants me to look at him, I know that, and with anyone else I’d ignore it until all traces of embarrassment had left my face. But not with him, I want to give him all of me. So slowly I raise my head letting him see the blush on my cheeks and repeat myself. “Tell me Tweek? What were you thinking?” His own cheeks flush in response, though on him it’s adorable, and I see him hesitate. But his eyes find mine as he chews on his bottom lip nodding a little.   
“Ngh! J-just, what if they’re not stars? W-what if this is just someone’s science project and they’re holes in the container so we can breathe?!”  
I blink a little as I listen, forcing myself to hold back a laugh, because this isn’t funny to him. This is a real possibility and terrifying. His wide eyes are once again trained to the sky above us. My hand squeezes his pulling him back to me again as I give him a small smile.   
“People have been up there, seen them. Maybe one day I’ll get to, and if I do I’ll bring you one back. So you know you’re safe, okay?”  
I can’t quite read the expression on his face, stare trained to me. I feel the heat returning to my own cheeks, I’m worried I’ve said the wrong thing. But his lips clash back to mine, this kiss more messy, needed. I guess for once I said the right thing. 

With a heavy sigh I let my eyes open, defeated, sleep isn’t coming. And with my grades I’m never going to be an astronaut, get to space to fulfil that. Just another fucking thing I can’t do. My mind returns to the current task at hand; talking to Stan. Something else I have no clue where to start with. I mean hell he goes to my school and sells me weed, I don’t know him that damn well. And that goes the other way too, why should I expect him to tell me anything? We’ve never been friends. A small voice sounds at the back of my head questioning that recently but I ignore it. In turn realising something else, I’m not sure I’d exactly call us friends, but Kyle I know I can trust and will listen to me; also he’s probably my best shot of getting Stan to talk. God damn it I guess I’m meeting him at school again.


	21. Chapter 21

Kyle hasn’t spoken in seven minutes, I know this because I’ve been watching the clock tick over on his cars dashboard. Much in the way it had been for me, he is finding the information near impossible to process. And hell he knows Sharon a lot better than I do, she’s basically been a second mom to him; and I’m practically accusing her of murder. Each minute that passes increases my anxiety. Have I finally said too much? Will his next move be to drive me to the mental hospital? At this point I really wouldn’t blame him, maybe it’d be a good idea. 

Eleven minutes are about to turn to twelve when he finally speaks.   
“Y-you’re sure they couldn’t have been for new plants?”  
The break in the silence takes me by surprise, the only thing stopping my eyes from rolling, as my gaze leave the clock to look at him. His furrowed bow, clenched jaw and cocked head make his desperation clear; he’s trying to rationalise the irrational. With a sigh I shake my head, “no, we’d both fit in one. Not unless the plants are on steroids.” His entire body sags as his head rests on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white as his upon it grip increases. 

Six minutes later he pulls away without a word. My anxiety is back, screaming at me to abort mission and get the fuck out of the car before it’s too late. My palms are sweating, hand hovering by the door handle, we aren’t going too fast, it wouldn’t hurt too much right? It’s got to be better than being sectioned.   
“I swore to myself that I wasn’t going to chase him anymore. That if he wasn’t going to talk to me then I’d do the same. Fuck.”  
Again he pulls me back to the moment, my hand returning to my lap. And in this moment I realise how much I’m currently asking of him. I also realise that he’s driving in the direction of Tegridy farms. Chewing my lip I look him over, he’s lost weight, his skin is more sickly pale than usual, fuck, Stan is making him ill. 

As silence refills the air my eyes return to the clock. They say time is a healer right? I wonder how many minutes it’s going to take him to heal? And if any amount of time could fix their friendship. The car abruptly pulls to a stop just outside of the turning to Tegridy Farm. My eyes again dart back to the boy beside me, he’s shaking, breath shallow and fast. He’s panicking and I have no idea what to do or say. Chewing on my bottom lip I sigh “you don’t have too.. I can go alone.” My words pull him back, he’s blinking at me, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish before letting out a deep groan, taking a breath and restarting the car.   
“No. No you can’t. And I need to know he’s okay.”

His driving is slower as we approach the building, he’s trying to buy time; but it isn’t for sale. Far too soon for his liking he’s parking beside Stan’s car. Having been too caught up in trying to analyse his feelings, I’ve been ignoring my own. And only now that I’m out of time do I realise the enormity of what we’re about to do. Oh shit. Simultaneous sighs slice through the air, both of us blushing as we hear, them before climbing out. 

Only the sound of our footsteps on crisp leaves can be heard at first, but as we pass the main building I start to hear a familiar muttering. Unease pulses through me, eyes darting to Kyle to see if it’s reached him, instead I witness his eyes bulging as he takes in the sight of the possible graves, my own react similarly recognising a fresh one. Eyes having left the path, distracted from the voice, we don’t notice Sharon until we’re almost upon her; in the same moment she’s noticed us. 

My eyes lock with hers, I manage to keep my expression neutral but can’t stop myself from gulping. My heckles are raised, I want to turn and run; yet I’m rooted to the spot. Luckily for me Kyle seems to be unaffected, smile on his face as he steps closer to her.   
“Hey Sharon, how’re you?”  
Only once his voice sounds can I hear his unease, Sharon’s lack of response making his body tense; yet still he continues.   
“Uh, we’re just here to see Stan.”  
Her eyes widen at his words, she’s closing the gap between us a frantic look upon her face as she finally speaks.   
“Run from him boys. Run and don’t stop.”  
Every hair on my body stands on end, goosebumps erupting over my skin; her words are bad, mad, enough, but it’s her tone that’s disturbing. I can’t tare my eyes from hers, they seem to be pleading; even Kyle seems lost for words. She studies each of our expressions in turn before seeming to find what she was looking for. Then her body twists and she begins to walk away. Her volume has dropped substantially, but I still hear her mutter.   
“What a good baby, what a good son I have.”

Neither of us move or speak as her form fades into the distance before disappearing from view completely. Time continues around us, yet both of us are trapped in the moment the words left her lips. Had I completely misread things? Is stan responsible? My mind can’t make sense of the matter, my thoughts and feelings are jumbled; are we walking directly into the lions den? Eventually our heads turn, two pairs of uneasy eyes locking, and somehow finding an understanding as we both nod before continuing to walk. 

Our steps get shorter the closer we get to Stan’s barn. Kyle is chewing on his bottom lip, reminding me that whilst this is hard for me, it’s much harder for him. Realising this I make the move to knock, I imagine he’d have waited patiently after were it to have been him anyway, and then as usual I open the door letting myself in. As expected Stan’s is wide eyed as he sees me, however he must be getting used to this now as his expression soon relaxes. It’s only once I step inside and bring Kyle into his view that he seems to completely lose his cool. Kyle’s eyes are glued to the floor as he somewhat reluctantly shuffles in beside me. Stan is gawping as us, no, at Kyle. The mess of emotions contorting his face make him unreadable. Yet the words that leave his lips are the last I’d ever have expected.   
“K-Kyle? Wh-what are you doing here?! You can’t be here! You’re the last person I want here?!”

My jaw drops, what the fuck? My head turns to the boy beside me, Kyles eyes have left the floor, glossy with brewing tears they’re trained to stan. I could swear I see the last prices of his heart crack as the first tear drops. But his hand is fast to wipe it away, he isn’t going to give Stan this; instead with a shake of his head he turns and leaves. My eyes follow him, my body probably should too but it doesn’t. Rage is building, rage I shouldn’t feel because of these two, yet somehow they’ve sucked me in. My head snaps back to Stan, low growl tumbling from my lips as I step towards him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

The ferocity of my tone takes me by surprise and makes Stan physically recoil. My fists are balled tightly at my sides, my teeth gritted. I hadn’t realised truly how pissed I was, but fuck, how dare he? His face is now wearing a pained and somewhat exasperated expression, as if he’s the wounded party. “He fucking loves you you idiot! The last thing he wanted to do was come here but he did because for some fucking unknown reason he still gives a damn about you! Or he did, you probably just fucked that!” I’d expected him to try to defend himself, wouldn’t have been overly surprised if he’d shouted back. I’d never expected him to cry. 

The sudden foreign vision seemed to factory reset me. Body relaxing as mind morphed from anger to confusion and uncomfortableness. He drops back to the sofa, face buried in his hands, I don’t know if he’s trying to cover the tears, but it’s futile as his sobs echo around the building. I have no idea what to do or say, so decide upon nothing; crossing my arms and averting my eyes, deciding that I’ll ride it out and wait for him to stop. 

It’s one thing to consider time as a whole, but there are also subsections of time. In our lives the first subsection is early childhood, followed by school, work, then retirement and eventually death. There are also subsections for people, not each person we meet in life receives the same allotment. Part of me feels that for Kyle, Stan’s allotment may have just run out. I wonder if thats what he’s realised? I also wonder if the same can be said for Tweek and I. This thought gives me a lot more understanding towards his reaction. 

Eventually his sobs turn to whimpers, and eventually trail off to ragged breaths as he fights to compose himself. Releasing his head from his hands and wiping his face he takes a deep breath before looking to me, taking in my stature before finally answering my question; pulling my eyes back to him.   
“I-I fucked up. But I didn’t mean it like that! How it sounded. I just, I don’t want him to get hurt. He’s the last person I want to get hurt.”  
His cheeks burn scarlet as his head falls, unable to hold my gaze any longer. But not before I’m able to read it. He isn’t lying. He’s a fucking idiot who quite possibly possesses less tact than me, which is a skill in itself, but his words hold truth, his expression holds pain. Luckily for him I seemingly have a soft spot for idiots, Clyde, and with a sigh and a shake of my head say the words he can’t, “you love him.” Cheeks burning brighter still he merely nods in return. Shaking my head again I consider my earlier thoughts, it may already be too late. He can delay all he likes, but time will not. “Well you better fucking tell him that then.”


	22. Chapter 22

He’d heard me but hadn’t responded. I consider repeating myself, that usually works with Clyde; at least after the third time. But Stan isn’t responding because he doesn’t know how to, rather than lack of attention. With a sigh I take a seat on the second sofa, reaching for his materials to roll myself a joint. I don’t know if I’ll still be able to complete the task I set out on aim of, maybe this will help. 

He still doesn’t react as I light it; not that if he had I’d have stopped. He’s physically here but not mentally present. Taking a deep drag I look over at his motionless form, his face if perplexed; suggesting it would be near impossible to currently get him to engage in even small talk. But I also realise that should I not at least try and broach the subject? I’d have put Kyle through all of that for nothing. Shit, I can’t do that. I may be a hard hearted person when I don’t care about someone; but not those I do care about. Damn, it would appear that Kyle has made me care, bastard. Still not now. I’m not ready yet and Stan certainly isn’t. As my mind begins to fog I know I should focus on thoughts of how to do this, hell I even try, but my brain has other ideas and instead turns to Tweek, zoning in on a memory. 

I’ve always considered couples who celebrate one month anniversary’s to be ridiculous; Tweek changed this. Only now do I realise that what it really provides us a whole day to spend absorbed in each other. This would be at his house of course; partly to avoid my father, mostly as his parents aren’t often around. 

After stepping out of the shower I reach to smear some of the fog from the mirror in order to study my reflection. The water has flattened my hair, a vast improvement of the mixed mess of flat and spiky patches I’d had earlier. I’m not what I’d consider attractive, I’m not ugly, just not my type I guess. I don’t look too bad; and Tweek seems to like how I look, so fuck it. I take longer than usual to get ready, Hell I even wear a button down. I roll my eyes inwardly to myself for being such a fucking cliché, before checking my reflection once more then leaving. 

As I approach his front door I’m already second guessing my choice of clothing. Could this freak him out? Will he think it’s strange? Feel pressure to have made a similar effort? When really, Tweek would look good in even a potato sack. A smaller voice at the back of my mind whispers the he’ll simply appreciate my effort. I choose to listen to this voice. Smile playing on my lips, it’s as if my body can sense he’s close and reacts accordingly, I raise my hand to knock. 

As soon as he opens the door any self doubt is gone, replaced instead by awe for how fucking incredible he looks. I also realise that I needn’t have worried anyway, he is also wearing a button down; which now I think about it he does more often than I do. It’s olive colour perfectly complements his eyes, making the darker flecks hidden within the brightness more prominent. His hair, though still wild, looks fluffy, freshly washed; and like he’s at least tried to tame it with a brush. My smile grows to match his as I step forwards, leaning in to capture his lips with my own. Predictably he tastes like coffee, but I don’t care; in fact for the first time I understand how this taste can be addictive. 

Pizza ordered we settle down on his bed wrapped up in each other’s arms, legs entwined as mouths battle for dominance. A moan tumbles from my lips as his tongue glides over my lips, and just like that he’s won. He’s in control as my mouth opens, his tongue pushing through to meet my own. The contact has him moaning into my mouth, heat rushes through my body as I tangle a hand into his hair, my hips rolling up to him involuntarily. Our bodies are pressed firmly together, he’s got to be able to feel me, my free hand rubs up his arm before squeezing it, his hand roaming my chest above my shirt; no wait he’s unbuttoning it. His mouth leaves mine, tracing my jawline to my neck instead; causing me to moan louder still. 

My shirt now off I begin working on removing his, however I’m interpreted after only three buttons when a knock at the door suggests our food has arrived. Pulling back with an apologetic look on his face he pecks my lips.  
“Be right back.”  
Then he’s gone. I blink slightly dazed before letting out a frustrated groan, sitting up and mentally cursing fucking Pizza Hut. 

However, as the inviting smell of food invades my nostrils my stomach rumbles, mouth salivating; my other ‘situation’ is, well, going down. So as he returns with a lopsided grin on his face and pizza in hand I find myself returning the smile and not protesting when he sits down and begins to eat. We have plenty of time. I reach for a slice of my own as he loads up Netflix, completely content, more than content. A lot of people wouldn’t consider this a date, Token had been horrified at the idea, yet for us it’s perfect. No pressure to cause Tweek anxiety. No other people to piss me off. Just us. Bliss. 

“Why were you two here?”  
My eyes blink open on surprise, a heavy sigh leaving my body as they find Stan. Right, I don’t have time, I have shit to do. And now I’m blinking at him while he’s repeating his question, fantastic. I need to answer him, I don’t know how, so I just blurt it out. “What’s with all the fucking holes?” Shock crosses his face, body beginning to tense. He can’t hold my gaze, a ruby glow forming on his cheeks.  
“I-it’s nothing.”  
Oh bullshit. I cock an eyebrow scoffing, “you know you really are a god awful liar.”  
His breath catches and he holds it, swallowing.  
“L-leave it alone Craig.”  
I’m angry again. Because he fucking asked why we were here. He knows why Kyle just had his heart torn to shreads and still isn’t going to say anything. Fucking chicken shit coward. I’m done, I’m more than done. I’m so fucking sick and tired of this, all of it, everything. With a shake of my head and an icy glare I flip him off before finally following after Kyle; like I should have to begin with. Whatever it is, this river of destruction, he’s got himself caught up in, he can fucking drown. Pushing my hands into my pockets I start the long walk back to towns thinking to myself: you’re a fool Stan Marsh.


	23. Chapter 23

Only once I’m approaching his house does my rage start to subside, replaced instead by uncertainty and apprehension. For starters I have to convince Sheila to let me in again, and in turn convince her I’m not there to fuck her son; yay. After that I have the even more colossal task of attempting to be compassionate and trying to comfort Kyle. This in its self has me starting to question if I’m even me? But I mean I must be to be questioning it, right? My head hurts. 

I pause taking a deep breath as I stare at the door. Squeezing my eyes closed I take a gulp of air, exhaling deeply as I raise my hand to knock. Sight gone my hearing increases allowing me to hear her heels tapping their way to the door, my eyes flick open in time with the door and I attempt to plaster a charming smile to my face. “Hello Mrs Broflovski.” Her face noticeably falls, she doesn’t even attempt to hide it, but using what will power I have I force the smile to stay on my face; your move bitch. It takes a few moments of awkward silence for her to force a smile, though it’s more of a grimace, and respond.   
“Oh dear, I’m sorry Craig. Kyle is a little upset, I don’t think it’d be best.”

Breathe Craig, breathe. Because what I want to do is scream at her that of course he fucking is! Between her and Stan is it hardly fucking surprising?! Instead I force the smile to remain, though my eye twitches a few times and grit my teeth slightly. “I know he is, and I also know why. I honestly don’t think he should be alone. Please.” Yuck. That last word leaves a foul taste in my mouth, and I hate myself for swallowing my pride and saying it. But it was worth it, I see her have an internal argument with herself before relenting and letting me inside. 

I feel her presence hovering behind me, following me, as I head to the stairs. As I begin to climb them I still feel her eyes burning holes in my back. I wouldn’t be surprised if she made us sit in the front room at this point; yet she doesn’t. I suspect her stare is still lingering on the staircase as I turn to walk down the hall, but I’m just glad it’s no longer on me. Predictably I knock once on his door before letting myself in. 

Kyle’s form tenses on his bed underneath the covers as I enter, closing the door behind me. Sheila will love that, if only I could lock it; oh look I can, click click bitch. His breath is shaky, small sobs he’s obviously trying to disguise slipping. I freeze. He looks so small, so vulnerable, and I feel guilty as fuck for the part I played in that. I also know it isn’t something I can make better. Much like my lack of Tweek-ness isn’t something he can fix. But he still tried, so damn it so will I. He sniffs starting to sit up, wiping his face as he turns slowly.   
“M-mom I said I just want to be alone—“  
His face looks like it burns as he realises it’s me and blushes furiously. Chewing on my bottom lip, I scratch at the back of my neck as I start to walk over, hesitating before sitting on the edge of his bed.   
“Uh yeah, I’m not your mom. Um Kyle, listen I’m fucking god awful at this but ugh.. I’m really sorry, that was a total dick move. He’s an asshole and you deserve better than that.” I trail off looking down with a shrug. The fire burning through his body has spread to my own cheeks as they flare up as well.

It’s silent for too long, I’ve obviously said the wrong thing, made things worse. I’m beginning to spiral when a fresh sob cuts through the air. My eyes dart to Kyle who is now bawling again. I don’t have time to react, hell even realise it’s happening until his arms are wrapped around me, crying into my shoulder. I tense, I’m not a hugger; ask Clyde. It makes me uncomfortable, I’m never sure how long they should last, and unless someone initiates them I don’t do it. Tweek of course being the exception, because those I never want to end. But I also realise that in times when the people I care about have been broken, my tolerance towards them, hugs, increases. When Clyde has lost him mom, Token broken up with Nicole. Given my earlier realisation that I apparently care about Kyle now I sigh giving into it, resting my hand awkwardly on his back and letting him cry. 

Again I’m watching time pass, it’s been twenty minutes and to be honest I’m surprised Sheila hasn’t realised the door is locked and tried to knock it down yet. Kyle’s sobs have died down to whimpers, and my shoulder is wet with tears, his breathing is still ragged though. Much as I want to pull back I know I have to let this be on his terms. However as a tapping at the window sounds through the room from behind us we both jump and the decision is made by neither of us. 

My head snaps round and I blink at the small blonde boy clambering through the window in a far more graceful fashion than I’ve ever managed; fucking Kenny. His eyebrow raises as he smirks looking between us.   
“Damn, am I interrupting?”  
Kyle’s jaw drops as scarlet re-consumes his face, a scowl sets in my brow as I salute him with my middle finger. “Fuck you McCormick.” His smirk only grows as he shrugs walking over, dropping to sit cross legged on the floor in front of us.  
“What? You’re both gay and having relationship problems, are suddenly buddy buddy and I come here to find you in each other’s arms. What am I supposed to think?”  
A growl escapes me as I narrow my eyes on him. “You’re supposed to think that if you don’t shut your mouth I’ll do it for you.”

He’d laughed, which ground on me more, but most importantly he did stop. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve hit him; he knows I don’t make idle threats. Kyle’s face is still glowing as he runs a hand down his face, the shock seems to have stemmed his tears.   
“Why are you here Kenny?”  
His voice is monotone, he’s emotionally drained and it’s obvious. Yet still Kenny keeps the almost sinister smile on his face, shrugging and actually fucking giggles.   
“Well let’s see, we think there’s two Eric’s and you and Stan are at war. I’ll take the latter as I’d imagine that’s why you’re crying? Am I correct? Drowning your sorrows in the sea blue eyes of another raven haired guy?”  
With a growll I lunge punching him hard in the arm. “Last fucking warning!” He yelps grabbing his arm, face rearranging to rival that of a wounded puppy. He is such an asshole. Kyle somehow blushes more, if he isn’t careful he’s going to explode, and frantically starts denying anything; I roll my eyes knowing this is exactly what Kenny wanted. It’s almost like he gets off on making people uncomfortable; I should have hit him harder. 

Kyle is nearing the verge of a nervous breakdown when he trails off, Kenny and I both blinking in surprise. What had started as a defensive argument had somehow turned into an overly detailed account of everything, and I mean everything: it’s not a pencil apparently, that has happened between him and Stan. Hell I know things that may give me nightmares and make me think twice about hiding in the guys bathrooms when I go back to school. I also know every awful thing Stan has said and done. So does Kenny. Were this information about me that I didn’t want to spread I’d be considering killing him about now, but for some unknown reason Kyle trusts the boy. To give him his credit Kenny listens intently, pausing to consider everything before replying; all whilst I’m trying to comprehend how this happened.   
“Stan’s and idiot. Not just for this, in general. You know that, I know that, hell even Craig knows that. He’ll realise what he wants. But it’s up to you if it’s too late.”  
He’s right, I hate that, but he is. I think Kyle knows this too as he lets out a heavy sigh hanging his head. I had thought Stan was out of time; I was wrong. Maybe with Kyle he’ll never run out of time. Just like Tweek won’t with me. I’ll search for him the rest of my life if I have too. 

Finally the door handle rattles. Kyle practically leaping from his bed wide eye’d as his mother’s panicked voice frantically starts demanding to know why the door is locked. I’m sure she’ll love that there’s now two guys locked in her ‘potentially’ gay sons room. Kyle seems to realise this too and in one fluid motion he’s dragged Kenny from the floor and stuffed him int he closet. I can help it, I burst out laughing at the irony. Kyle throwing me a glare I bite down on my tongue in an attempt to silence it as he opens the door. No sooner is it open than is she inside, eyes scanning the room and each of us in turn. Relief flashes across her face as she nods a little to herself before focusing on Kyle an overly forced smile settling on her face.   
“How about we leave the door open? I’m sure Craig should get going soon?”  
She’d phrased it as a question, but it wasn’t one. Kyle had begrudgingly nodded in agreement, posture sagging in defeat. Can’t she see what she’s doing to him? This seems to satisfy her, she leaves, though not before throwing me a glare. I flip her off the second her back is turned. 

Her heavy footsteps echo on the stairs, only once she’s reached the bottom does Kenny tumble out of the closet grumbling.   
“Man that’s getting old.”  
Suggesting it’s not the first time that’s happened, I guess he counts her footsteps. Kyle sighs moving to sit back down.   
“Sorry, you know what she’s like. She’s only getting worse.”  
Kenny sighs nodding a little, he knows all about shitty parents after all; we all do. Then his gaze redirects to me, the glint in his eyes makes me uneasy; I already know I’m not going to like this.   
“So, you should get going soon Craig? Where would that be too?”  
I fight off the blush but my eyes widen giving him his answer before I can stop them. Kyle looks completely lost. My teeth grit as I meet his stare. “Shut up.” I don’t know how he knows, but of course he fucking knows. Which in turn means everyone will. Fuck fuck fuck. Kyle shakes his head, he genuinely has no idea.   
“What are you talking about Kenny? He’ll go home.”  
Kenny clucks his tongue half smirking shaking his head, I can’t hold the blush back any longer.   
“Oh I don’t think so. He hasn’t been home in days. Did your dad finally kick you out Craig?”  
Kyle’s jaw drops as he blinks at me. My face is on fire, I want to beat him senseless yet I can’t move. How dare he. Why the fuck does he know everything and think every damn detail of people’s lives is his to play with?!

Both of them seem to be waiting for me to speak, but it doesn’t come. So instead chewing his lip Kyle returns his focus to Kenny.   
“What are you talking about?”  
Kenny rolls his eyes shaking his head.   
“You really are blind Kyle. Craig’s dad is about as okay with him liking cock as your mom will be with you.”   
I don’t think, just act as my fist slams into his cheek. His head bangs on the edge of the bed as he lets out a yelp. Kyle tenses glancing to the doorway, relaxing when no further sounds follow before looking back to me. I try to read his face, the closest I can fathom is that it’s similar to the hurt expression of received from Clyde days before, his words only seem to confirm this.   
“Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me? You can’t go home? Where are you staying.”   
Shrugging I finally meet his eyes, typical Craig, My face is sporting a blank deadpan expression. I give him a stare which says: you don’t know me at all, and you never will. But it feels different; I’m not sure it’s true.


	24. Chapter 24

It’s been less than a week since Kyle and I started actually talking, yet already he’s broken down my walls; walls which many have attempted to breech before and failed. I fight to keep my stare hard, but he isn’t afraid of me, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to convince him that that is a bad choice. His head shakes again as he finally pulls his eyes away from mine. I get the feeling that he isn’t done with the topic, no doubt it’ll come back to bite me in the ass later; but he’s realised that for now I’m not ready to talk about it. 

Kenny of course had remained silent, leaning back with his ever present smirk, observing our exchange. This is what he always does, lurks in the shadows collecting details. Just what I need. His eyes shine a little brighter as his smirk curls.  
“Aww you two are so cute.”  
Kyle’s cheeks flush again and I’m on my feet lunging at him. But the fucker is fast, almost dancing out of my reach like a mad man. I groan as my hip collides with Kyle’s bedside table, making it thump against the wall. I barely acknowledge Kyle’s grimace at the sound before again rounding on Kenny, trying again to grab him. Unfortunately at the same moment footsteps begin hurrying up the stairs, Kenny blinking shrugs at me, blowing a kiss before beginning to climb back out of the window. Jackass. The noise brings Kyle to life, he abruptly stands, however given that I’m still mid movement this time it’s him I collide with. Two pairs of eyes bulge as we start to tumble. A low groan escapes me as the back of my head slams against the floor, a higher pitched one leaving Kyle as he lands on top of me causing me to groan. 

“Holy fuck..” He looks ready to apologise, but as his mother scream cuts through the room from the doorway his head snaps up to her instead.  
“M-mom.. this isn’t what it looks like.”  
What it looks like? Oh, oh fuck. Kyle scrambles to his feet opening and closing his mouth but finding no words. I take a little longer having taken the brunt of the fall. I’m not even fully vertical when her hands are gripping my arm beginning to pull me from the room. I know it’s useless to fight it so instead I let out a heavy sigh and shrug. “Well that was great Kyle, we should do it again sometime.” I hear him groan in response, Sheila’s grip on my arm increasing. But fuck it. 

Her muttering was so frantic as she forced me through the house and out of the door, the only thing I really registered was her telling me not to come back before slamming the door in my face. Kyle’s now fully open window had of course provided Kenny with full access to the entire exchange. The moment the door shut he practically fell over laughing as he moved out from behind the tree beside their house. Rolling my eyes I flip him off and turn on my heels to walk away from him. However Kenny is relentless, once he’s set his mind to do something, in this case seemingly to try and piss me off, he’s like a cat with a fucking mouse. 

I hear his footsteps behind me and begin to take longer strides, he’s short so if he wants to keep up he’s gonna have to fucking work for it. Then I shit you not, he’s next to me and he’s fucking skipping. He keeps his eyes on me yet his mouth, uncharacteristically, stays shut. I suppose it’s a small blessing really. I know realistically he didn’t cause that, but I’m blaming him none the less. Two blocks later and he’s still skipping, his eyes are still on me, I can feel it. Without warning and fairly abruptly I stop and round on him crossing my arms. “What do you want?” His smirk grows to a grin as he stops shrugging as he looks up at me.  
“You’re interesting. Recently you’ve been slightly more readable, branching out on who you talk to.”  
Great, I know the boy doesn’t have a television but fucking hell surely he has better things to be doing. Like comforting his friends? 

With a shake of my head I begin walking again, hearing him sigh from behind me before again he starts to follow me.  
“Why were you there?”  
A redundant question really, he know /why/ I was there, after another moment of thought I guess he’s more interested in why /I/ was there. This time I groan, shrugging. “Maybe because none of his friends are?” He blinks and frowns ready to protest, but I’m not finished. “Why go there just to mess with him?” I glance to him questioningly a frown to match his now set in my brow. In an instant his face morphs, head dropping back as a cackle like laugh cuts through the air, he looks like some kind of demented hyena. My eyes roll, head shaking as I begin to pick up my pace again. With a groan he this time half jogs to catch up with me. “I know Kyle better than you do Craig. I know if I let him he’ll wallow in self pity until it eats him alive. And I won’t let him do that.”  
I blink stoppring again looking down at him with a raised eyebrow, he looks genuine until the smirk returns with a shrug.  
“Besides, that got to you a lot more than him, trust me.”  
And god help me, for the first time I think I do. 

I’ve slowed down, he’s no longer fighting to keep up with me; though I don’t know why he’s walking with me at all. Maybe I’m not the only one who’s avoiding my home, can’t blame him; at least only one of my parents drink. His face is surprisingly untainted by a smirk the next time he speaks, taking me by surprise.  
“Seriously Craig, where are you going? Your house is the other way.”  
I shrug, because I’m still deciding. He takes this to mean I don’t know at all.  
“You can stay at mine?”  
Oh hell no. It’s one thing to wake up with Clyde’s hard on poking me in the back, he’s straight and my best friend. It’d be a whole other thing to wake up next to Kenny. Ew. This thought must be written on my face as his eyes roll again, smirk returning.  
“Oh come on, I figure I’ve gotta be more your type than Kyle? Blonde hair and all?”

I stop dead in my tracks blinking at him. Did he seriously just fucking say that? The proud smirk on his face would suggest he did. My eyes roll as I shake my head. This guy is so fucking full of himself. And sure, plenty of people do seem interested, seeing as gender doesn’t matter to him, anyone seems to be fair game. But more than that, I’ve seen Kenny naked more times than I could count, Hell everyone who’s ever been to a high school party in this town has seen him naked. Somehow it happenes every damn time, maybe he’s just an exhibitionst. Anyway he’s not bad too look at, but I’ve never wanted to touch him. His smirk is growing at my lack of response, and even more when I flip him off. With a shake of my head I meet his gaze pushing my own smirk. “Kenny, you don’t have enough money to pay me to do that, and hell that the only way it’d ever even potentially happen. You do absolutely nothing for me.”  
Yet it’s my smirk that falls, brow furrowing in confusion instead as he merely shrugs.  
“Fair enough, okay.”  
Blinking and unsure if I just hallucinated I parrot his words, “okay?” Again he shrugs giving me a lopsided grin.  
“Honey, you’re not that special. Plenty of people are interested, I don’t wast my time on those that aren’t. Besides, I think it’s more fun being able to get under your skin than into your pants.”

Lost for words I’d merely blinked at him before shaking my head and continuing to walk. Thank fuck there’s only one of him. Decision made I take the next left heading for Clyde’s, it’s closer; less time with this ass.  
“So, what did Stan do now?”  
Well at least he’s changed the subject I guess. But really was he not listening earlier? I give him a stare, this question clearly shining through my eyes as he shakes his head immediately.  
“No not that. Why were you two there?”  
Oh. Well fuck. I don’t want to tell him, but realistically, what if I don’t? Kyle will right? Chewing my lip I debate it internally, deciding to remain vague and shrug. “Just, aside from Kyle there’s something weird going on with him. I wanted to figure out what, but it’s not like we’re close. Kyle said I needed him, and Stan wouldn’t tell me shit so I guess he was right. Either way we still know nothing.” I sigh shrugging trailing off, eyes flicking to read his face. As usual there’s a smirk present, yet it’s sitting differently. He chuckles shrugging before giving me a grin filled with far too many crooked teeth.  
“Of course he wouldn’t tell you anything. But, and this is a big but, Kyle isn’t the only one he’d open up too.”  
I blink considering his words and connect them to his expression, “what you?” He scoffs feigning hurt before smirking again shrugging.  
“Yes me. You need me Craig tucker.”  
Well fuck that’s a terrifying concept. Choosing to ignore it I shrug. “Is there anyone you wouldn’t fuck?”  
He blinks at me thoughtfully before smirking nodding.  
“Yeah, Cartman.”  
His smirk turns to a grin at my shocked face before we both burst out laughing. 

We’d finally split up at the last fork in the road, I’d turned right closing in on my final destination, he’d gone left, I suppose finally heading home. Sky above me is starting to darken, added to by the lack of starts due to clouds. The air around me is heavy and still, it’s quiet, really fucking quiet; eerie. Shaking my head I tell myself it’s only because Kenny doesn’t allow space for silence. But none the less I find myself walking faster. 

Slight relief washes over me as I start down the path to Clyde’s front door. I just have too much on my mind, it’s playing tricks on me again. This is a totally normal night, hell maybe it’s later than I think and that’s why there’s no one about; though his house is still lit up. My head snaps towards his back gate as a sudden sound cuts through the silence. Well that’s creepy as fuck. The cat isn’t Clyde’s, and I swear to god it’s eyes are glowing red like some kind of mother fucking Demon; trained to me. I find myself gulping slightly, keeping my eyes on it as I take another step towards his front door. Then a strangled scream slices through the air, it’s female but I have no idea where it came from. My head snaps around, neck craning in an attempt to locate the noises source. The cat seeming to realise I’m distracted pounces, claws and teeth sinking into my calf. Pulled back to the moment a pained yell also comes out of me as I kick my leg out, jumping around in an attempt to get it off. Mother fucking crazy ass cat! Ouch! My yelps and curses must travel inside, Clyde appears at the door eyebrow cocked blinking at me. He looks amused, surprised and confused all at once. Eventually he realises I’m actually struggling with this fucked up creature and steps outside to help, between us we pull it from my now bleeding leg and Clyde launches it over the gate. Our eyes lock, both baffled, before angry meows begin to sound again. Fuck that. Simultaneously we turn running into his house, slamming the door shut behind us.


	25. Chapter 25

Both of our backs are still pressed firmly to the door, my breathing is ragged. I don’t know how long we’ve been here, unspeaking; unable to comprehend what the fuck just happened. Clyde moves away first shaking his head before rounding on me.   
“What the bloody hell did you do to that cat?”  
I blink at him somewhat dumbfounded. Does the boy know me at all? I far prefer animals to humans. My eyes roll as I shake my head flipping him off, my leg is warm, wet and throbbing. “More like what the fuck did it do to me. Where’s your first aid box?” He’s blinking like an idiot, either he doesn’t know or they don’t have one, fan-fucking-tastic. 

I’d made do with showering down my leg before ruining one of his towels. He’d tried to protest of course, but I hadn’t listened; besides it’s stopping me from getting blood on his sheets. He’s still pouting at having lost the fight, bottom lip stuck out like a sulking child as he sits opposite me. Looking away my eyes focus on the tv, however my mind has other ideas. In less than 24 hours I have: argued with Stan, realised I’m fucking terrified of his mom, made Sheila believe I’m fucking her son; well from our position when she found us maybe it’s the other way around. Then somehow become reliant on fucking Kenny of all people. Oh and been mauled by a cat. Jesus Christ you couldn’t write this shit. 

I hadn’t realised I’d sighed until Clyde sprung to life, he may sulk but it never lasts too long, and his voice pulls me back to him.   
“Where were you?”  
Damn there’s a lot of answers to that, I just shrug. His tongue clucks.   
“Wrong answer.”  
I sigh again; louder. Pushing my fingers through my hair I meet his eyes. “Most recently? With Kenny?” The bulging of his eyes would suggest he finds this answer far more acceptable, all be it unexpected. I know how his brain works, and I use the term ‘works’ very loosely, right now he’s already creating simultaneous scenarios containing Kenny and I in his head. I’m not sure if I’ll be putting him out of his misery of adding to my own as I add, “before that we were at Kyle’s, until Sheila kicked me out.” I watch him blink at me rapidly, seeming to slow in time with his brain processing my words, mouth set in an O position and brow creased in concentration. It’s mildly humorous watching Clyde struggle to understand something. 

Eventually he gives up and shakes his head.   
“What? And a couple more what’s too actually. Why’d she kick you out?”  
The blush crossing my face has him making new connections; connections he has no business in making, his growing smirk gives that away.   
“You and Kyle?!”  
He’s practically bouncing on the damn bed, bug eyed stare trained to me. I really wish people would stop fucking thinking that. His face falls slightly, as if slapped by my icy stare. “No. I have a boyfriend you Jackass.” His face falls further before he blinks in realisation.   
“Ooooh yeah.”  
Dear god, I despair for him sometimes. Some people were dropped as babies, I’m beginning to suspect Clyde was thrown at a wall. 

Apparently without Tweek’s constant presence around us, yet a version of him still being visible at school, Clyde has managed to forget one of his best friends is missing. Maybe I should go away for a while? I’d get some peace when I got back. Somewhat sheepishly he smiles shrugging.   
“My bad. So why?”  
I groan throwing my hands up, at this point not caring anymore. “Because Sheila found him on top of me and thought the same damn thing! Which Kenny caused and found hilarious! Happy?” His laughing would suggest he is. Maybe I’ll smother him in his sleep. 

Crossing my arms with a frown I lean back, letting him get it out of his system before narrowing my eyes to him. “I’m so glad my life amuses you. How’re things with Bebe?” My aim was precise, he looks wounded. However I’ve also just fucked myself over. Token and I have an unwritten rule, don’t mention Bebe. Because if you do? You’ll be talking about her for damn hours. Despite never to my knowledge having shown interest in Clyde, and regularly dating other guys, Clyde ‘loves’ her. 

My eyes trained to his clock I watch minutes of my life slip away only half listening to his latest ‘fool proof plan’ to make her his. Until that is he’s asking me a question, staring at me hopeful and expectant. Of course I didn’t listen to that part, have no idea what I’m supposed to be answering; I’d assume by the look on his face it’d be in my best interests to just say no. Instead for some unknown reason I get him to repeat himself. Slightly annoyed he does; and I should’ve just said fucking no. Bebe’s hosting a party tomorrow, apparently he needs me, also apparently Token has given Wendy another chance; maybe Kyle is the smarter one. 

I’ve said no multiple times in multiple ways. Each time he come back with a fresh rebuttals in a more pleading tone. My patience is wearing thin, I don’t want to go, I just want him to fucking stop. “Fine! But I’m not staying long.” He leaps across the bed wrapping his arms around my rigid frame muttering words of thanks. God he’s lucky I like him. After the last party we were at I can’t even imagine why he’d want to fucking go. I have more serious shit to get on with. This is fucking stupid; as is he. 

Speaking of shit I have to do, not only do I now apparently have to go to a party tomorrow night, I also have to meet Kenny from school. Try again to talk to Stan, and avoid Sharon. Oh goodie, lucky lucky me. Life used to be so simple, what the hell happened. Tweek. Tweek happened, he came into my life and made it worth living; then disappeared leaving me alone in the wreckage. Yet still all I care about is finding him and making sure he’s okay. I never knew it was possible to miss someone this much. As Clyde hands me the controller I swallow the lump in my throat. Push the thoughts aside until I can be alone with them, and focus of killing zombies. At least this is consistent. 

As always Clyde went down first, leaving me to take on the ever growing hordes alone. It’s inevitable that eventually I’ll go down too, only a matter of time; time that’s running out. Clyde’s wide eyes are watching the screen, the carnage; it’s almost poetic in accuracy to real life. Because of everyone I’ve spoken too about the shit going on he’s the only one who seems to have just accepted it and moved on. Part of me envies him, how simple it must be to have such a short attention span. A larger part of me is glad that my stubborn ass won’t let it go; not till he’s back. I’d happily drop the rest of this bullshit and step away, but I can’t shake the feeling that everything is connected somehow. That I’ll have to ride it all out to find the one damn thing I care about. Tweek Tweak damn it where are you? My mind gives way, he’s invaded every part, and with that I go down, pulled apart by both zombies and emotions simultaneously. 

No sound had escaped me, I’m tight lipped and gripping the controller, only the hot wet streaks tumbling down my cheeks had alerted me. Clyde blissfully unaware it still looking at the screen, groaning at my defeat and commenting on kill counts. Without a word I push up from the bed and move over to his window, opening it to stick my head out and look at the still starless sky with a sigh. My movement pulled his gaze to me, however back turned he’d missed my tears; and seeing as he’s used to me looking at the sky he doesn’t question it. I want to scream at the clouds, I need to see the stars, I’d settle for the moon. Because they’re constant, always there, and maybe, just maybe, wherever he may be, my Tweek could also be looking at them. It’s a stretch, improbable at best; but fuck I need to cling to that right now. 

Clyde had left me to myself, I’m not sure if I can credit that to tact; I feel it’s more likely to do with his bubble of obliviousness. Either way I’m thankful for it. Instead he’d switched the game to Netflix and relaxed back on his bed. He’ll have to sleep soon, school and all. I can’t stem the tears as I lose my fight with the sky. Hell I’ll stand here till he’s asleep if that’s what it takes for him not to notice. 

My eyes burn by the time they’ve stopped. Apparently I have stood here till he slept, I notice turning to see my best friend contorted into an uncomfortable looking position on the bed, mouth hanging agape, ew he’s dribbling. Shaking my head in disgust I glance back out of the window, a flash of red grabs my eyes from the far corner, no there’s two; eyes, that motherfucking cat is still out there. I salute it with my middle finger before shutting the window, walking away. Sighing at the mess it made of my leg I shake my head sliding into the bed myself, remaining dangerously close to the edge; I’d rather roll out than into his puddle of spit. 

I know sleep won’t come easily, that you can’t run from what’s inside your head. I’m still not entirely sure I’m sane, it could be that everyone is just humouring me. And when what your mind contains is madness where does that leave you? Well I guess it leaves you laying awake at night repeating words I’m pretty sure everyone’s been told: ‘mind over matter’. But no one prepares you for the day when what is the matter is your mind. With a heavy sigh I squeeze my eyes closed, I’m tired of thinking, overanalysing. I need to drown it out, and the only thing that ever achieves that is him; Tweek. I’m not completely delusional, I’m aware he isn’t here; but memories are mine, can’t be taken away. 

I’ve had my fill of pizza, relaxed back now watching him nibble away at another slice, in a way not dissimilar to that of Stripe gnawing at a carrot. Smile plastered to my face, my eyes follow his every move. He’s unaware, which seems to be something which only happens in my company. Usually he’s totally aware of everything, sometimes even things which aren’t present. But for some reason around me he actually lets his guards down; I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but fuck I’m not questioning it. I’m so fucking lucky. 

He has maybe two bites left when I move to pull him back against me, wrapping my arms around his waist. He jumps slightly before relaxing back against my chest; my chest which I’m just realising is still bare. His isn’t; not good enough. Leaning forward I press a soft kiss to his cheek as my hands slowly start to trace up his shirt. His breath hitches slightly and I smirk, kissing down his neck instead, my hand finding his skin, fingertips grazing it lightly before moving back down in search of where they had left off earlier. Seconds later the remaining buttons are undone, hands trailing up to his shoulders, starting to slide the shirt from his body. As his creamy smooth skin is revealed my lips trail further to kiss along his shoulders. His shiver sends sparks through my entire being. 

Food very much forgotten he turns, breaking my contact with his skin, I blush hearing myself whine. Then his lips capture mine letting out a small giggle against them as our chests press together. I nip softly at his bottom lip in response to the giggle, tugging gently until the moan I’d been hoping for leaves him. Fuck he’s sexy. His nails dig into my sides causing me to gasp; releasing his lip. A small smirk plays on his lips as he raises an eyebrow, studying my face he begins to pull them down my skin. My eyes squeeze shut as I let out a mixture between a hiss and moan, my hips rolling up a little. His small gasp lets me know he can feel me against him, my cheeks burn waiting for him to freak out. Unfair really when he’s the one that does this to me but still. 

My eyes squeeze shut tighter still as his weight leaves me a little. Of all the times I didn’t want to be right. His hand removes next and I sigh finally starting to open them. Only as they’re half open I see him repositioning next to me, hand moving to trace over my chest. My breath catches as my eyes shut again. Oh god I’ve never been so fucking happy to be wrong. Small moans slip into the air as his hand traces lower, a louder moan erupting from my lips as it leaves my skin rubbing over the growing bulge in my pants. Holy shit. That brought me back, eyes snapping open I find his face, pearly teeth biting down on his bottom lip, he gives me a small smirk. I feel a devilish grin on my own lips as I lean up, hand pushing into his hair and kiss him hard. 

He hesitated slightly at the button, pulled back to check my face; instead my own hand answered, moving over to begging rubbing his own now forming erection. Momentarily shock crosses his face, a moan he hadn’t anticipated tumbling from his lips, before he’s grinning, kissing me again as he finally unbuttones my jeans; releasing a little of my building pressure. But only a little, seeming to revel in teasing he leaves the remaining layer separating us, rubbing now over my boxers. It’s the most intoxicating torture, my own hand is more eager, less focused on teasing and more on getting him out of those damn pants, hastily unbuttoning them. His breath catches as I roll over more pushing down on them, pulling them off and tossing them aside with a triumphant smirk. His cheeks flush and now it seems his turn to conclude I’m the only wearing too much, because as our lips meet again mine are also removed.

Pushing him down to the bed I deepen the kiss, chests pressed firmly together, both of us are now hard, separated only by the fabric of our underwear. His nails are back, pulling slowly down my sides, causing my back to arch as I break the kiss hissing. In that split second he’s rolled me to my side; he’s facing me. My eyes blink open a little, realising that he wasn’t taking control away from me for himself, if he had been he’d be on top of me by now. Instead we’re on even footing, neither yet both of us in control simultaneously. With a small smile, I trace my finger along his jaw before kissing him again softly. “I love you.” My cheeks burn at the admission, pulling back to look at him that soon washes away as he says it back. A grin so large my cheeks ache contorts my face before my lips recapture his. 

Light kisses grew heavy, laced with want and need, both of our hands exploring exposed skin, slowly making their way towards the last barrier. His got there first, eyes scanning my face, finding a small nod as they creep under the waistband. My breath catches at the foreign contact; till now I’m the only one who’s been there. Then as his hand wraps around me slowly starting to rub, my head falls back with a moan; holy crap it feels better than when I do it already. For a moment my hand stops, hips pushing up to his touch, lost in it, then as his lips press to my neck I snap back to focus. Hips moving in time with his hand, my own ventures lower, pushing inside to be greeted by course hair. His breathing catches slightly making me smirk, hand moving to wrap around his shaft. The moan this illicit’s from him sends fresh sparks through my form, mouth once again colliding with his, as I begin moving my hand up and down slowly. For a split second a blush crosses my cheeks in realising it’s bigger than mine, but I soon push the thought away. Fuck that who cares. 

The kiss’ grow heavier as our speeds increase, matching each other. My hips are rocking back and forth in time time with his hand, his are reacting in a similar manner to my own. Our mouths break apart only when breath catches, or a moan slices through the air. My mind grows foggy as I feel myself nearing the edge, breaking the kiss my forehead rests to his shoulder. Eyes squeezed firmly closed, breath heavy against his skin, my hips buck up a few more times before my body stiffens and clenches as I cry out, covering my stomach and his hand in the process. I swear to god I see motherfucking stars. Moans and whimpers tumble from my lips against his skin in a continuous stream. 

For a moment, dazed, my hand slows in time with his, my own grip releasing slightly. Then he lets out a small whimper, hips bucking up a little, bringing me slightly back to my senses. His hand leaves my deflating manhood, reaching instead for my hip, nails digging in as he whines.   
“C-Craig.. please.”  
Yes fucking sir! My mouth presses down nipping at his chest as I begin moving my hand again, reclaiming my rhythm. He moans loudly rocking against me as I trace the bite mark with my tongue before sucking on it to leave a mark. Marking my territory I guess, because I’m the luckiest son of a bitch in the world; Tweek is mine. He’s close, his breath keeps catching, he’s throbbing in my hand. Pulling back I briefly admire the mark before moving my eyes to his face, and just in time. His eyes roll back so far I swear I only see white, back arching as a low loud moan falls from his agape mouth. I hiss through my smirk as his nails dig harder into my hip, breaking the skin. Hot warm coats my hand as I start to slow it, letting him ride out the feeling. That was fucking amazing. 

With a groan I roll over flicking my eyes open to look up at Clyde’s ceiling. Great. Now I’m horny.


	26. Chapter 26

The clock had read 4:36 the last time I remember looking at it. My mind had once again piped up firing thoughts in quick succession. Each minute I watched pass seems stretched out, time around me warped; slowing. My mind consumed with feelings of insanity. They say that time is the best healer right? A medicine of sorts? However what they fail to mention is that the only difference between medicine and poison is the dosage. At some point my body had given way to sleep, as my eyes creep open the clock now reads 1:30. Holy crap I was tired; I even slept though Clyde’s alarms. 

I’d been reluctant to get out of the bed, time, seeming to realise this, had sped up, was toying with me. I managed to shower and change; stuff down a couple of pops tarts and already needed to leave. The fact that I’m rushing my ass off to meet Kenny not adding to my brooding mood. Though I suppose it does support the concept of my own decent into madness. Pulling my hat over my still damp hair I step outside with a heavy sigh, stuffing my hands into my pockets as I make my way down Clyde’s driveway. Only as I reach the end my head snaps back, a low hissing sounding from behind me. Of course, now I’m being stalked by a fucking possessed cat. 

Gulping slightly I keep my eyes on it as I increase my pace. Bright red orbs stalk after me before it starts to move; and I start to run. Am I seriously scared of a cat? Jesus that’s sad. Though this fucker isn’t giving up, I’ve already made two wrong turns, adding more time to my journey, in hopes of losing it. But still it’s stalking me like a mouse; like prey. Chest screaming at me to stop I settle for slowing, but it’s catching up. Out of other options I stop and take a breath turning to kick it away. 

A high pitched yowl pierces through my eardrums upon contact. I swear I feel my heart stop, eyes wide as I watch its floppy form leave the floor before landing further away. It stays still for a moment and I hold my breath, my body feels icy cold, guilt flowing through me. I’ve never felt bad for hitting a person. This feels fucking awful, half of my mind is screaming at me to check it’s okay, the other is trying to rationalise my actions. Then it stands and scurries away, I finally let go of the breath I’d been holding; at least it’s alive. Still shaken I take a few deep breaths staring down the now empty road, before crossing my arms and recalculating the fastest way to school. 

The lack of people tells me I’m late before I’m close enough to read Kenny’s pissed off stare. Kicking off the wall he’d been leaning against he begins moving towards me, closing the distance and grumbling.  
“Take your time why don’t you, any particular reason you’re late?”  
I flip him off shrugging, not pausing as I continue to walk in the direction of Stan’s, leaving him no choice but to also start walking if he wants any hope of keeping up. I don’t want him to know what happened; hell I don’t want anyone to know. Besides if time is a man made consept then am I really late? Shrugging I look down to him. “Time doesn’t exist, and I’m not sure I do either.”  
He raises an eyebrow blinking up at me shaking his head, small smirk playing on his lips. But his eyes leave mine as we continue to walk in silence, I do care what he’s thinking and I shouldn’t. However the saving grace is that I don’t care enough to press the matter further. 

It’s three blocks later before he speaks again and I’ve never been so elated to hear his voice; I’m definitely insane.  
“So Clyde said he was able to get you to come to the party tonight?”  
I stop dead blinking. What the fuck? He’s the reason Clyde begged me to go? They don’t even talk that much. I suddenly feel the subject in some grander scheme or a practical joke; thoroughly uncomfortable. His smirk is only growing as he watches me react. My eyes harden, glaring at him, but still that stupid ass smirk doesn’t let up.  
“I’ll take that as a yes. Good.”  
He doesn’t offer anymore information and I’m too proud to ask. Besides I’ll beat it out of Clyde later if I have too. An uncomfortable silence envelopes us lasting the remainder of the long walk. Gritting my teeth I remind myself that I’m only with him because I ‘need’ him. 

Though there are fresh holes dotted around, Kenny taking great interest in them, I’m simply happy Sharon is out of sight. Kenny reaches the door first and I blink a little watching him open the door without knocking. See he’s worse than I am. Stale smoke and old booze combine in the air along with sweat, it’s putrid, Stan looks relieved to see Kenny until I follow him in, when his face instantly hardens. I suppose he probably can’t remember a time I wasn’t here daily, I know I’m starting not too. Kenny doesn’t give him time to protest, practically dancing his way over before dropping down on Stan’s lap, startling him. I make my way over to the other couch raising an eyebrow and Stan finally reacts, blushing as he pushes Kenny off and onto the second sofa cushion. 

I realise now that I probably should have used the walk here to come up with a game plan. So far my random impulsiveness hasn’t exactly worked out. Yet Kenny doesn’t skip a beat, all be it hitting far off topic.  
“Are you coming to Bebe’s party?”  
Good god boy is obsessed, why the fuck does that matter? Who’s in the holes?! My mind is screaming, my mouth seems glued shut; I’m just watching this play out. Stan blink somewhat confused before sighing shrugging.  
“No.”  
Well damn that makes a change, maybe he’s finally bored of sticking his dick in whoever will have it. His body sags a little as his eyes drop to his lap, I can’t be sure but I think this movement actually increases Kenny’s smirk. Fucking sadist. Shrugging nonchalantly he pushes what sounds like a very forced sigh.  
“Pity, I’m taking Red and Craig’s taking Kyle.”  
My jaw drops as Stan’s now bulging eyes snap back to Kenny.  
“Wh-What?”  
“You heard me.”

My mouth opens and closes, cheeks burning, because there are literally no words. Did I agree to this? Did I seriously miss something big Clyde said? Fuck I really have gone mad. I feel like I’m going to be sick. This can’t be happening. Stan studies Kenny’s face before snapping his head to me. 

Misreading my confusion his eyes narrow. Kenny’s smirk is now trained to me, falling slightly as I start to shake my head. “Kenny.. no, I never- i-i fuck I can’t even go to his house right now..” my mind is screaming Tweek, just because he isn’t fucking here doesn’t change anything! No. No I wouldn’t have agreed, I couldn’t have. Could I? NO! And the sooner people realise that the fucking better. 

But before I can form those thoughts into sentences, Kenny decides to douse the flames with gasoline.  
“I know I know, not surprising after what Sheila saw last night.”  
Oh holy shit. He isn’t wrong. But he’s playing with facts. Bending them for his own agenda. As always he’s playing a fucking game and I’m a pawn to take down Stan, right? My body tenses as I feel my cheeks growing redder still. I’m gonna kill the little fucker, I’m pretty sure he knows it, maybe he’s a masochist too. He knows me enough, from years of lurking in the shadows, watching and gathering information, to know that when I’m uncomfortable I lose the ability to form coherent sentences, and he’s used it against me. Stan’s also red though his is with rage, rage that technically he doesn’t even have a right to be fucking feeling, as he looks between us trying to process Kenny’s words. And of course once he does it’s in exactly the way Kenny had been hoping. He looks like he wants to break me, smash my body into a thousand pieces, jaw set tight and fists already balled he narrows his stare at me before growling.  
“Get the fuck out!”

I hadn’t needed telling twice, while I can take a punch and give one back I have no reason to hit Stan, and really he has none to hit me. Kenny takes this to be aimed at both of us and follows me out. Big fucking mistake. He seems to realise this, gulping holding his hands up and starting to speak. But I’m done listening to him and with a growl I take a step towards him, musing to myself how convenient the graves will be. He blinks like a deer in the headlights before turning to run. That fucker! He’s small but fast, and now he has a head start. Gritting my teeth I push off chasing after him. You can’t run forever bitch. 

By the time I’m catching up he ‘s realised he was beat, and in a last ditch attempt has scaled a fucking tree. The stitch in my side as I double over leaning against it is currently preventing me from finally catching him; but at least I have him trapped. Apparently not in much better state than I am, his ragged breaths sound out from above me from between words.  
“Will you chill the fuck out?!”  
My eyes snap up to him snarl on my lips. “Chill out? Chill out?! I have a boyfriend and you’re setting me up on dates?! Oh and telling other people?! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He laughs, and I’m starting the climb ready or not. Gulping he groans.  
“Craig it isn’t real!”  
I freeze clinging to the tree my mind spiralling. I knew it, none of this is fucking real. I’m completely insane, someone should lock me away. Numb me with drugs; make this fucking stop. But he isn’t done.  
“I just said it to fuck with Stan! Now he won’t be able to help himself. He’s going to have to talk to Kyle! Get it now?”

Oh. Slowly with blinking eyes I return my feet to the ground. Only that part wasn’t real. Clarity is gone and the lines between reality and illusion are blurred; gone. With a heavy sigh I slump back against the tree with my head in my hands. I don’t know what’s real anymore; and have no fucking idea how I’m supposed to feel. Eventually Kenny seems to deem me no longer a threat. Gracefully dropping down to the ground, even landing on his feet; fucking show off. It’s almost as if I don’t even know myself; I don’t protest as he helps me up and leads me to Clyde’s. 

Reluctantly I push myself out of the cab sighing up at Bebe’s house. As Clyde does the same he finally stops pouting, face now lit up with an excited grin. Were it not for the first sized bruise forming on his bicep it’d be impossible to tell how pissed I’d been at him mere hours earlier. But now that we’re here my mind is too focused on the impending hellish evening, to be able to give a damn about it anymore. Moreover I’m more than slightly relieved that the only person I’ve turned up with is my best friend. Maybe Kenny was right though, maybe forcing Stan to talk to Kyle is the answer. He’ll tell Kyle what happened. I’m sure of it. 

Clyde practically bounces into the house in time with the music its emitting, out of beat and a few steps behind him I follow with a heavy sigh. Entering I see him paused, eyes scanning for Bebe no doubt. I don’t care if he finds her, if I’m going to be here I need alcohol. Sliding past him I push through groups of people into the kitchen and grab a beer. I take a deep swig before sighing turning to scan the room, eyes peeking up a little as they land on Token. But his face looked strained, eyes trained to the doorway; at second glance I notice Wendy next to him; her expression more of disgust. My eyes follow their stares to the doorway, Kenny prances inside, Kyle shuffling behind him. He looks about as happy to be here as I am. Glancing back to Token he catches my eyes pushing a small somewhat apologetic smile. I can’t return it, instead I shake my head, and already knowing I’ll regret it later, walk over to Kyle and Kenny instead. 

Both seem surprised yet grateful for my arrival, so Kenny did tell Kyle about his fucking masterplan too. I’m suddenly very aware I let him get away with it. Fuck it I’ll punch him later. Avoiding more complex topics we leave the majority of talking to Kenny as we make our way through drinks. Both of our eyes are searching; searching but not finding what they’re looking for. So far stan is a no show, maybe Kenny was wrong. I’d settle for any version of Tweek at the moment, if only to prove to myself I haven’t imagined him too. 

Kenny eventually grew bored in attempting to make a conversation happen, shaking his head and muttering something about life being too short, before leaving Kyle and I to dwell in our individual miseries. Of course not five minutes after he left, Stan walked in. His stare zoning in on the two of us hardening. Kyle’s face is on fire. Fucking great. Shaking my head I take another swig, watching him pour himself a drink, more whiskey than coke, and promptly leaving the room again. Rubbing the bridge of my nose I sigh looking to Kyle. “I guess misery really does love company..” he blinks and me, considering my words before sighing nodding.  
“I think you’re right.”

I don’t know how much time has passed. I can only tell you that I’ve had two more beers, when both Clyde and Kenny appear wearing suspiciously similar grins. Kenny having tact doesn’t pause, simply links his arm through Kyle’s and begins dragging him away, therefore giving him no choice. I raise an eyebrow watching them go before crossing my arms looking down at Clyde’s puppy dog eyed expression. I don’t even want to know. “No. Whatever it is no.” And now he’s pouting, of course. Rambling on about a game of ‘Never have I ever’ beginning in one of the other rooms. See told you I didn’t want to know. I don’t care who’s done what, and have even less desire to have people knowing what I may or may not have done. But I assume Clyde’s been taking tips from Kenny, because he isn’t playing fair. With a small shrug and trying to play it cool he adds,  
“Tweek’s playing.”  
My body stiffens, this alone tells me that it isn’t my Tweek. No way would he be taking part, especially without me. However it reassures me that there is at least a version of him here; he’s real. And just like that I cave, I’m not fucking playing the stupid game, but I’m still following after him. 

As we enter the room I observe a fairly large group sat in a circle. Clyde, grinning makes his way over to sit on the opposite side of Kyle to Kenny. Kyle looks like he’d rather be getting circumcised without anaesthetic than in the middle of this. I don’t even blame him. Refusing to suffer the same fate I move to lean against the wall keeping a hard stare on my face. The game starts childishly, the questions are predictable, as mostly is who will drink in answer to them. However Tweek is answering wrong, well I guess he’s answering right for him. Just further proof that he isn’t my Tweek. My chest aches, I’d know this of course; but it still fucking sucks. 

I sigh finishing my drink squeezing my eyed closed, questioning for the hundredth time why the fuck I’m here. A body stumbling against the doorframe has me darting them open, blinking as I watch Stan enter, leaning in a fashion not dissimilar to mine against the opposite wall. My eyes roll in response to his dirty look, returning back instead to the circle. But I’m not the only one to have noticed his entrance, Cartman’s eyes are gleaming in a way that can only mean he’s our usual asshole version, and it’s his turn. I watch his stare leave Stan, settling instead on Kyle with a smirk. Kyle looks even more terrified, does he know what’s coming? Cartman feigns thoughtfulness before speaking,  
“Never have I ever had sex.”  
Huh that wasn’t too bad. Most people around the circle are drinking, my eyes are glued to Kyle. He’s staring at his cup, I see him hesitate before drinking. Oh, okay then. 

My eyes snap left, missing Stan’s stare narrow on me in the process, as Wendy let’s out an anger filled cackle. Oh shut the fuck up all ready I think rolling my eyes.  
“So you actually fucked my boyfriend?”  
My eyes widen as I groan internally. Here we fucking go again. Kyle’s face is so red it’s blending with his hair, mouth opening and closing. He can’t even answer, but Cartman isn’t done.  
“I mean of course, who else would wanna touch the Jew?”  
Fucking fat ass, literally no one wants to touch you. But then a new voice sounds, a female voice; Bebe.  
“God do you all have to be such ass’?! It was me okay?! We were drunk, and both emotional.. and well we felt like having sex! There. Satisfied?”  
Holy shit. Expressions and mumbles alike around the circle would suggest that yes, everyone for the most part is satisfied. Kyle looks ready to cry, his head turns to look at Stan. Finally my eyes make there way to him, he’s sickly pale and tense. Fuck. He didn’t know that. Pained stare trained to Kyle he simply shakes his head, turns and leaves. 

Fresh rage flows through me as my head snaps back to the circle searching for either Cartman or Wendy at this point. Till that is my eyes instead land on Clyde, he looks mildly upset, but his gaze isn’t on either Bebe or Kyle. Rage gives way to curiosity as I follow his stare, landing on Tweek. It’s only in that moment I realise he’s practically the only person who didn’t drink. He’s saying he hadn’t had sex. All thoughts are pushed away as nausea rushes through me, pulse racing and head spinning. I can’t do this. I can’t question if that was real. I shouldn’t even fucking be here! Dropping my now empty can to the floor I turn on my heels following after Stan.


	27. Chapter 27

The air is harsh with cold when I finally push my way through huddles of people and out of the house. Suddenly I’m moving slower, head spinning as my stomach churns. I take deep breaths desperately trying to calm down, but it’s already too late. Saliva is building up in my mouth, there’s no stopping it now, just in time I turn and empty the, mostly liquid, contents of my stomach over Bebe’s moms sunflowers. My bad, oh well, fuck it. I gasp for breaths between hurls, eyes stinging with tears. Wiping my mouth on the back of my hand I slowly stand back upright, thankful it’s dark and there’s no one out here. Guess I already lost Stan. 

I begin walking without looking back, no thought out plan on where to go, but realistically I always end up in the same place. Hands pushed in pockets I let my lags carry me in the familiar direction, whilst my mind reminds me on repeat of every wrong answer Tweek gave during the game. At least Clyde noticed too, it’s not only me anymore. The night air is still and quiet, the sky lit up with stars, full moon beaming down; providing some much needed light. These are usually my favourite kinds of nights; but tonight I just don’t care, I can’t care, if I care about anything else I think I’ll implode. 

I reach the clearing faster than I’d anticipated, the ground below me is damp and cold. Eyes trained to the sky, I watch a shooting star glide past and sigh, wishing with all of my might that he’d just come back; though it’s been a long time since I believed in wishes coming true. As a child I’d made many such wishes upon stars, I don’t ever remember any coming true. With childhood innocence comes a naivety, hopeful expectations. As you get older life’s harsh realities dash these; tare them to shreds, leaving at least myself as a cynical asshole. The only thing thus far I’ve found that remotely compares to this as you get older is love. Love is lighthouse guiding you through rough seas, alerting you to the adversities and guiding you safely from them; a safe space to aim for. But how do you love and what do you do, when the person you love is just fucking gone?

Leaves crunching from behind me make my breath hitch, head snapping round to see a form in the shadows. My eyes bulge, I rub them before double checking and swallow. It’s too dark to make out features, but I’d know his outline in any light. He’s getting closer, soon he’ll be illuminated by the moon. That wild blonde hair is dancing in the wind, he looks slightly uncomfortable; could it be? I’m on my feet closing the distance, relief and excitement pumping through me simultaneously. Yet when the moons light does hit him I stop in place; instantly deflating. The outfit is the same as the Tweek I’d seen earlier was wearing, and he’s looking at me wrong. This isn’t my Tweek, merely a cruel joke sent to me from the universe. How the fuck does he even know about this place?

For the first time since I’ve met this version of him he wears an uncertain, somewhat nervous expression. One that’s more familiar than he could imagine, it’s fucking creepy. I take a step back shaking my head as he steps closer still, chewing on his lip.  
“Um, hi..”  
Frown setting on my brow, arms crossing, I shake my head again. Hi? Seriously? What the hell is going on? There’s hundreds of questions I could ask, probably hundreds more that I never would. But the only one I can vocalise is the most pressing. “How and why are you here?” My usually naturally icy stare is taking more work than usual to stay set. Though now he’s embarrassed, he seems currently to be more sure of himself than he usually is; and definitely more so than I currently am. Everything’s backwards, the worlds upside down. 

Unmoving I keep my stare on him as he edges closer, shrugging a little as he sits looking up at the sky.  
“I’ve been here before Craig.”  
He’s been here before? Wait, so did alternate me bring him here? I’m not sure if he can read my mind or is just not finished talking. Either way he looks up to see me blinking baffled and sighs.  
“It’s where you told me you couldn’t be gay.”  
My blinking increases as I study his face, he looks sad, though it isn’t fresh.  
“It was the last time we spoke, well until this week. Which is why I was so confused when you started trying.”  
Shit. Alternate me is a fucking moron. For starters it’s not like I can just fucking pick and choose my god damn sexuality. But secondly, and far more importantly, how the fuck could he reject Tweek, any version of him. My mouth opens and closes several times before I relent, chewing my lip as I take my seat beside him. 

He’s content with my silence, all be it not as comfortable as my own Tweek would be. Giving me time to attempt to process this new information. I’m not sure that realistically there’s enough time in the world for that, but I’m trying. Pulling my knees up to rest my head against them I sigh looking over him. Every feature is perfect, it’d be so easy to lean over, claim this version as my own. But I don’t love him, my body would react in its usual way I’m sure, he’s still fucking beautiful. But I don’t know him and he doesn’t know me. His words have only left me with fresh questions, they seem never ending. My mind can’t decide where to start, the silence is starting to make me uncomfortable. This is all so wrong. 

Eventually he seems to give up on a response and sighs looking up to the sky, admiring its beauty with no knowledge of what he’s seeing.  
“It funny isn’t it? How realising that everything is wrong makes the most sense.”  
Funny? Oh yeah fucking hilarious. My eyes roll a small scoff slipping, I try to mask it with a cough, starting to blush slightly. With a raised eyebrow his challenging stare sets on me, he isn’t done.  
“I’ve known all week that things seemed different, people seemed different. But tonight confirmed it, Clyde.. Clyde says we’re dating..”  
My eyes bulge cheeks burning more. Of course he did, boy can never keep his fucking mouth closed. My eyes leave him, returning to a sky with a shrug, “we aren’t.. you’re not my Tweek.” His chuckle sounding through the air is like music to my ears; it shouldn’t be.  
“Yeah that’s what Kenny said.”  
Oh goodie, they’re still tag teaming me. I wonder if Sharon would dig me two graves. 

He’s taking this too well. He should be freaked out, pulling and his hair and fucking stuttering. Yet as he elaborates on Kenny’s attempted explanation of parallel universes, he seems completely at ease. Its as if he’s had emotions removed, almost a robo-Tweek. Trailing off his eyes again land on me, I’m not sure what expression is on my face but the way he’s looking at me would suggest it isn’t good. Tugging at the strings of my hat to pull it further down, I sigh squeezing my eyes closed. “How did this happen?”  
His half hearted chuckle in response is also wrong, yet no matter how many times I turn away, my eyed seem intent on returning to him. Pearly teeth pull at his bottom lip with a sigh.  
“I have no idea.”

Initially I don’t even recognise the bitter laugh that leaves my lips. Yet as it hastily becomes more manic I’m suddenly painfully aware yet unable to stop it, my body starting to shake as laughter gives way to sobs. My Tweek has seen me cry, and I’m fully aware this isn’t my Tweek, yet still I don’t try to hide my face. He doesn’t look shocked, not even surprised, but I don’t know him or what he’s used to so maybe this is his normal? Tears are trailing my face hot and heavy, body heaving with each sound emitted. I feel truly defeated at this point. If he can tell he’s in the wrong place yet still has no answers then who the fuck does? Are we trapped like this forever? Have I died and gone to hell? I find myself even envying Kyle at this point; at least he’s able to see the object of his affection, fucked up as the whole situation may be. 

Head heavy from crying I rest it down to my knees, closing my eyes as I try to stem the tears. My body tenses unusually over the familiar weight of his hand on my back. He doesn’t seem fazed at all.  
“I uhh, I guess this is unusual here? Um, you’re pretty emotional normally for me. In my reality I mean, you care too much about what people think. What your parents think.”  
The last words are aided by a heavy sigh, suggesting my alternate really hurt him. Asshole. My mind races as I try to make sense of his words. I care too much about what people think? I told him I couldn’t be gay? So, alternate Craig is living a lie? And alternate Tweek is getting right on with his life, doesn’t need me; him. Yet in my reality I’m starting to suspect that actually I’m the one who needs Tweek; and not this one. My heavy sigh echoes around the clearing, “I just want him back.”

Sitting up more slowly I catch his blush as he removes his hand nodding.  
“Yeah, I can tell. I guess alternate me is a lucky guy.”  
I blink before chuckling shaking my head, because he has no idea how wrong he is, “nah, just alternate me is an idiot.. I uh, I hope he figures it out when you get back.”  
My own cheeks burn in time with his getting brighter as he gives me a small smile.  
“Thanks, this is bizarre.”  
He’s chuckling now shaking his head, and regardless of which Tweek he is I find the sound infectious, joining him nodding. “Yeah, that’s South Park for you I guess.” Before sighing, finally fully studying his face; seeing the pain behind his eyes. Pain I know a version of me caused. He isn’t mine, and I’m not who he wants; I’m just glad to have at least a version of him close. Chewing my lip I hesitate before starting to point out the constellations above us.

He’s been willing to listen, eyes trained to the sky still after I’d trailed off. The silence is more comfortable than it had been, yet not what I’m used too. He breaks it first, turning to me.  
“I don’t know if it helps, but I haven’t seen my- well, his parents all week.”  
My eyes bulge, confusion only increasing, am I seriously now missing three Tweak’s? Pinching the bridge of my nose I groan, before a smaller voice at the back of my mind tells me that maybe this is good? Maybe he isn’t alone? And while that does nothing to ease my own suffering, it gives me a glimmer of hope for his own; and his matters more. 

Words grew fewer and further between, the air temperature around us dropping, only now am I noticing how cold it truly is. glancing over I can see his teeth chattering. Pushing up with a sigh I offer him my hand helping him to his feet, hesitating before groaning, pulling off my jacket to push at him. I see the surprise cross his face accompanied by a small smile, god I miss that smile.  
“You don’t have to.”  
My eyes roll with a shake of my head as I turn to start walking, “Yeah I know, don’t be ungrateful, just put it on.” He doesn’t protest, setting not over his own before following after me. 

Stepping out of the woods he tried to pass it back, I’d shrugged him off telling him I’d get it another day before we parted ways. Him headed home, me? Well who knows. Goosebumps are erupting over my skin as I make my way around the pond. Great fucking idea Craig, hell maybe I’ll freeze to death and this’ll all be over. Pausing I sigh watching stars dance over the waters reflection, it’s somewhat calming. Until that is my eyes raise slightly, settling on the bench across the other side. It’s too late to feed ducks so why the hell is someone sat over there? Despite my better judgement I find myself giving in to curiosity, starting to walk around to the figure. 

As I draw closer I recognise the form, and in turn the earlier events of the night. Well I found Stan, and he looks fucking awful. Which on closer inspection is hardly surprising considering the near empty whisky bottle he’s drinking from. Tear streaks stain his cheeks, fresh ones still falling. Kyle and Bebe is an odd enough concept for me to try and get my head around. I’m not sure if to him this would be better or worse than when he thought that it was me getting it on with Kyle. I’m also not entirely sure he has any right to be this upset about the whole thing considering how he’s acted recently. Regardless I feel a pang of pity for the boy. The earlier Tweek’s words play in my head, alternate me was too worried about what people would think, I believe that’s Stan’s issue. And that issue had cost my own alternate a relationship, he’s doing the same damn thing now. I mean he wouldn’t be this upset if he didn’t want to be with Kyle right? 

Sighing I step towards him, rubbing my arms for warmth, he’s consumed in his own sorrow, not noticing my presence until I sit next to him. Reaching over I take the bottle from his hand and swig it; pulling a face at its harsh taste and the burn on my throat. Jesus How has he drunk so much of this. Only once the bottle leaves his hands does his head turn to me, he looks ready to protest; I cut him off with a stare, taking another swig. “You look like shit Marsh, I think you’ve had enough.” He blinks several times before hanging his head working to wipe his face, he needn’t bother, I really don’t care. Hell my eyes are probably still puffy, guess we’re even. 

Neither of us speaks as I manage to finish the bottle, it tastes like shit but it’s helping with the cold at least. Still I don’t really want to stay out here all night. I take aim and throw the bottle, it bounces off the rim before landing in the trash can. “What are you doing here?” He merely sighs and shrugs in response, which I now understand why people find frustrating as hell. Rolling my eyes I try again, “why don’t you go home?” He blinks at me before managing to slur.  
“Why don’t you?”  
Alright smart ass, clearly neither of us are going home tonight. Shaking my head I push to my feet looking down at him, “get up.” He watches me not responding, my patience is wavering, teeth chattering now, “I’d really rather my dick didn’t freeze and fall off so get the fuck up!” 

It’d taken him three attempts before I resigned myself to the fact I was going to have to help him. Arm wrapped around his waist I’m practically dragging him along; this is made slightly more bearable by the fact I’m now sharing in some of his excessive body warmth. I really fucking hope Clyde is home. I mean it’s late I know that, but I have no idea what time it is. I’m sure stan has his phone, but no fucking way as I sticking my hand in his pocket to find out. 

Clyde’s house is a vision of darkness from the front, which, seeing as there no cat thank god, is where I dump Stan before letting myself into the back garden. I have little to worry about him wandering off, I’m not sure he could get up from the doorstop should he want to. A relieved smile creeps onto my face seeing Clyde’s room lit up, finally a silver lining. Reaching down my fingers dig into the earth, selecting a stone, taking aim and firing it at the window. His face appears mere seconds later before disappearing again. Knowing this means he’s on his way down I sigh walking back round to retrieve Stan, who now seems to be having a conversation with a bush, no wait arguing? And I think he’s losing. Wow, I wish I was that fucking drunk. 

The task had been harder than I’d anticipated, eventually having to admit defeat and get a confused Clyde to help me get him inside. A task made harder still by Clyde and my own intoxicated states seeming to become more obvious on the stairs. Once we’ve successfully dropped him on the bed Clyde follow suit, dropping face first on the other side. Rolling my eyes I grab a spare blanket moving to the small couch at the end of his room. Sure give the tallest guy the couch. Sighing I lean back sat up watching the two of them attempt to get themselves the right way around on the bed, it’s mildly amusing really. With the blanket wrapped around me I’m finally regaining some of the feeling in my fingers and toes, regardless it’ll be a while before I’m warm enough to sleep. Clyde and Stan have no such issue, I’m not sure who’s snoring starts first, but I’m pretty sure Clyde is now spooning him. Dear god.


	28. Chapter 28

Alcohol seemed to shut my brain down quicker than usual, deep dreamless sleep encasing me. Bright sun is flowing through the window, curtains still wide open, and hits me square in the eyes as I blink them open with a groan. I haven’t woken up willingly, my head is already heavy and throbbing when Stan’s yell breaks through silence.  
“What the fuck?! Get your dick off my ass!”  
Small smirk playing on my lips, mostly due to the fact that for once it isn’t me; that’ll teach them to hog the bed. Guess he’s a top, not all that surprising I chuckle inwardly to myself, before slowly pushing to sit up and watch the scene play out before me. A pained yelp as Stan’s fist makes contact with his stomach confirms that Clyde too is now awake. Fingers pushing through his hair Stan practically leaps from the bed.  
“Jesus Christ! Is everyone in this town gay?!”

My smirk grows, small chuckle tumbling from my lips, actually reminding him of my presence; not merely lurking like Kenny would. “Was that an admission Marsh?” His head snaps to me a slight blush forming.  
“I told you I’m not gay..”  
I shrug yawning, stretching out a little. “True, but you also told me you weren’t straight.” His cheeks burn darker as he takes a step towards me.  
“You know what!?”  
Unfortunately I do not, and as he moves he’s allowed the sun to intercept his stare, in the light I see a slightly green tinge taint his skin; halting him mid sentence before he gags and turns running. He makes it out of the room at least, I’m hoping he’s found the bathroom because I can hear him hurling. I guess I’ll never know what it is he was questioning; I can live with that. 

Clyde’s whimpers have died down, replaced now by whines.  
“It’s too loud.”  
Boo fucking hoo. Rolling my eyes I stand, stretching my stiff legs; I may have been better off having slept on the floor. Glancing to the clock I sigh realising we’ve slept the morning away again, I don’t need this becoming a habit. “It’s already afternoon, get up.” As I’d expected he answers only with muffled groans, burying his face further into his pillow. I raise an eyebrow watching him in mild amusement deciding to change track, with a smirk and a shrug I step forwards pulling the covers from his grasp, throwing them to the floor. “So I guess I’m not special and you’ll grind anyone’s ass?”

He groans curling into a ball as the covers leave him, I see the moment he registers my words as his eyes snap open, looking to me with a pout.  
“I can’t help it! I’m not conscious!”  
I chuckle shrugging, “sure man, keep telling yourself that.” Pout turns to frown as he sits up with a groan throwing a pillow at me.  
“Shut up! Oh god my head.”

Stan stumbles slightly, leaning into the doorway.  
“You and me both, got any painkillers?”  
Clyde of course is blinking like an idiot, my eyes roll again as I nod. I have no idea how I know this yet he doesn’t; I also have no idea how he’s survived so long being this useless. “Downstairs, kitchen.”  
Blinking, Clyde begins nodding as if he’d known this all along before grinning at me. I know that grin and I don’t like it.  
“Food!”  
He practically shouts the word, elongating each letter, making Stan and I wince in the process. I don’t feel as bad as these two look, but I’d also readily welcome painkillers. Stan is looking at Clyde somewhat confused, if I had to guess what he’s thinking I’d go with ‘yes kitchens have food?’, I on the other hand make the connection. This is Clyde’s attempt at asking me to cook. More out of habit than annoyance, my eyes roll again before I shrug. “Fine.” Clyde’s lopsided grin takes over his face, and anticipating his next move I start towards the door. And just in time, in the next moment he’s leapt from the bed, arms wide. Sidestepping Stan, I make it out of the door nudging him in Clyde’s direction instead. His eyes widening in surprise as the other boys arms wrap around him. 

Shouts and yelps sound from behind me as I begin to descend the stairs, a smile playing on my lips I shake my head. They’re both ridiculous. Only once I enter the kitchen am I reminded of the likely lack of food. With a sigh I move over to grab some painkillers from the side, swallowing them dry before continuing my task. Chewing my lip I open the fridge scanning the contents, if you can call it that. Eventually, between the refrigerator and cupboards I just about scrape together the ingredients for pancakes. Not particularly interesting, but simple, and right now that’s what I need. As I methodically put together the ingredients and begin to cook I allow my mind to wander back. 

Waking up in unfamiliar territory is usually unnerving; but not when I open my eyes to find myself still nestled in his arms. Yawning softly I roll over to face him. There’s a slight crust around his closed eyes, his breathing is heavier than usual owing to it being through his mouth. He’s so beautiful, Hell I don’t even care about his morning breath. Hand reaching up, I gently run my thumb over his smooth rounded jaw line. It makes his face much softer and inviting that my own angular one does mine. Sleeping he looks almost angelic. 

I’m content to watch him sleep, feel no need to check the time, as however long this lasts I know it won’t feel long enough. Our legs are entangled, bare groins pressed firmly together due to his firm grip, arms wrapped around my waist, anchoring me to him. Though this contact also has other parts of me waking up, I can’t help it; he does things to my body. My teeth nip sharply on my bottom lip as he starts to stir, I really hope this isn’t my fault. His eyes flick open with a yawn, widening momentarily under my stare before relaxing, a small smile starting to grow. I feel my own cheeks pull up in response, and leaning forwards press my lips softly to his. “Morning..” I feel his smile widen against my lips; who knew I could ever be this happy?

Now aware of the time, and thus knowing his parents will already be at work, we’d seen little need to get fully dressed. So, in only our boxers, we’ve finally migrated down to the kitchen. Tweek predictably immediately set to work making coffee. Leaving me to attempt to navigate my way around the foreign cupboards. Everything is surprisingly full, and organised excessively; something I’d imagine has to do with my lovers anxiety. Unsure of what I’m even looking for I abandon my task and turn instead to watch him. As soon as the coffee is made he sips it without waiting for it to cool, he must have and asbestos mouth or something. Again finding himself under my stare a small blush forms.  
“Agh! Sorry I didn’t think! Um are you hungry?”  
Chuckling softly I push off of the side, walking over to peck his lips, noting that I’m getting used to the taste of coffee. “You don’t need to be sorry, but yeah I could eat.” Pulling back with a small nod he gulps the rest down in what I’d assume has to be record speed, before moving over to the refrigerator. I see a small frown set in his brow as his eyes scan its contents before he begins reeling off ingredients and possible options. Blinking a little I watch slightly in awe of his culinary knowledge and the vast array of options. I find myself grinning long before I chuckle. 

My laughter seems to pull him back to the moment, blush increasing on his cheeks. Shaking my head I smile letting him know the laughter isn’t at his expense, immediately making him physically relax, before smiling shrugging. “What would you like Tweek?” Because in all honesty I’d have been content with cereal, though now that the concept of cooking with him is an option that’s out of the window. As he blinks at me I’m almost sure I read both confusion and surprise, as if he’s not used to his opinion mattering; causing anger flash to the forefront of my mind. Biting my tongue I push it back as it’s not what he needs right now. He needs reassurance. So instead I shrug, swearing to myself that I’ll never make him feel like that, and squeeze his arm softly smiling, “we can make it together, you can teach me.”

He’d settled on omelettes, and after retrieving a vast array of ingredients he’d set them on the side, turned on the radio and given me the task of cutting vegetables as he proceeded to make another coffee. Now that I’ve finished I find myself little much of a helper, rather a spectator. Leaning back against the counter I realise that I am more than okay with this. His body sways a little, all be it out of time with the music, his humming buzzing in the air as he begins to cook. He’s focused, and in turn not second guessing himself. It would seem every day I learn something new about him, and in turn love him more. 

Their voices had gotten louder, suggesting that they’ve made their way downstairs.  
“Fuck off!”  
I wouldn’t question anyone saying that to Clyde in all honesty, but the sound of a phone ringing alongside his words would suggest Stan isn’t aiming it at him. With a sigh I finish stacking the pile of pancakes before carrying it into the other room setting it on the table. Both boys immediately dig in, Stan’s annoyance seemingly forgotten in the presence of food. Rolling my eyes I grab my own starting to eat, all the while being thanked through mouthfuls of food; delightful. 

Stomachs now full, the pancake stack has been demolished; mostly due to Clyde. Both of them look marginally better, and I feel far more myself. So far only the buzz of voices from the tv has sounded. I think from the expression on Stan’s face he feels awkward, which I suppose is fair as this is an unusual mash up of people. Clyde however knows not of awkwardness, adding in his lack of tact I’m actually surprised it takes him as long as it does to stick his foot in his mouth.  
“I can’t believe Bebe fucked Kyle and I can’t even get her to date me.”  
Stan’s body goes rigid as his face contorts with a scowl, fist balling at his side. Internally I face palm, I know that wasn’t aimed as a stab at Stan, that Clyde was merely thinking about himself and oblivious to anything else, I’m not sure however that Stan knows this. I sigh shrugging, trying to pull focus to me more than wound Clyde, though if that’s a consequence so be it. “You know, talking to her like a human being would greatly improve your chances.”

He’d looked wounded, pouted and protested. Just as I’d hoped this gave Stan the time he needed to calm down. With a heavy sigh he hangs his head. Watching him I shake my head, drowning out Clyde’s voice with my own thoughts. Does he seriously not see how hypercritical he’s being? He can fuck as many girls as he likes but Kyle can’t screw one? Asshole. As my voice cuts over his, Clyde trails off pouting more. “If you don’t tell someone you want them, you don’t get the right to complain if someone else does. That goes for both of you.” In the back of my mind a small voice tells me that it’s probably also true for my alternate self. Both of their cheeks redden, Clyde’s pout protruding even more as Stan’s frown sets back in. But fuck it, it’s true and they both need to realise that. Seeming to have reached his limit Stan abruptly stands shaking his head.  
“I’m leaving.”  
Without giving time for a response he turns walking for the front door. Blinking I groan softly standing, I should probably stay with Clyde, it’s the easier option really even if it would require hours of talk about Bebe. But I don’t, offering him a weak smile in response to his confused stare I find myself following after Stan instead. 

There merely a few inches between us in height, meaning it’s easy enough for me to keep up with him. Arms crossed and a face like thunder he’s doing his best to pretend he hasn’t noticed me beside him. Luckily for me, patience is one of my virtues; and it would seem I no longer find his silence uncomfortable. Stan doesn’t hold a grudge, is pretty forgiving usually, I hope for Kyle’s sake that part eventually wins his internal battle. With me it doesn’t even take him two blocks to relent and speak.  
“Why are you following me? Why don’t you just go home?”  
I could tell him, honestly right now I think that I could and he wouldn’t judge me for it. But I don’t, instead I’m reminded of the night before and chuckle. “You asked me that last night, and then I asked you the same thing. Seeing as you’re walking towards Kenny’s I’m guessing you’re still not either. I’ll answer when you do.” Stopping in place he blinks at me in surprise, opening and closing his mouth without speaking before sighing shrugging and beginning to walk again.  
“Touché.”


	29. Chapter 29

The small smile tugging on his lips as he continues walking, unspeaking, suggests he’s actually impressed with my response. His body has noticeably relaxed, once tightly folded arms are now dangling freely at his sides; formally clenched fists now un-balled. His skin is more sickly pale than usual, dark circles rimming his eyes. He looks tired, but not the type sleep can fix. It would feel recently I’ve become fairly accustomed to this look, it contorts Tweek’s face in my dreams, wears a pleading stare of desperation upon Kyle’s face during my waking hours. But, more worryingly, it’s consumed my own reflection. I’m not blind to the hollowness set in my eyes, I just don’t have any fucking idea what to do about it. 

Once we’re outside Kenny’s run down house a sense of distaste passes over me; because how the fuck have I gotten to the point when I come here without needing to? Stan must be having similar thoughts, he slows down, chewing on his lip as he scratches at the back of his neck awkwardly.   
“Uhh, are you coming in?”  
My face remains expressionless as I merely blink in response. As always I’ve made a rash decision, with no thought for what to do after step one. God job Craig. I know I could turn around and return to Clyde’s, there’s still risk of Bebe talk, but out of that and spending time around Kenny? Well I really don’t know which is the lesser of two evils. I also know that at some point I’m going to have to go talk to Token, because if he’s staying with Wendy still? Then hell maybe he’s a fucking alternate too. 

Stan is shuffling from leg to leg, eyes darting around; trying to look at anything but me. He’s not a fan of silence I guess, the people he usually surrounds himself with allow little time for it. In the same way that his group of friends demeanour is foreign and uncomfortable for me, my own manner is to him. Finally I settle on the idea that Kenny may currently know more than I do on the Token situation. Considering that he actually stayed at the party, I conclude that, seeing as I’m already here, I may at well see what he has to say. As I let out a heavy sigh, Stan’s eyes finally return to me in time to catch my nod. “Yeah, I need to give the fucker something.” Stan only looks further baffled, oh well he’ll see soon enough, and takes a moment to follow me up the path to the door. 

His mother had let us in, can of beer in hand and already slurring, reminding me of home; of my father. That’s something I haven’t missed, though a small part of me may be homesick. I feel my face pinch in disgust as the smell of damp and cigarette smoke invades my nostrils. Stan must however be used to this as he seems unaffected, immediately walking through the house. Breathing now through my mouth I follow him. 

The smirk of pure joy on Kenny’s face as we enter tells me that he’s already making connections. Gritting my teeth I let a low growl slip and in two quick strides, I’ve crossed the small space of his room between us and punched him in the stomach. Stan’s jaw is hanging open as he blinks watching. Yet doesn’t move to help as the smaller boy crumbles before me groaning loudly. “That’s for making this idiot think I was fucking Kyle!” My hand motioning to Stan. Watching Kenny squirm on the floor pulls a smirk at my own lips as I perch on the edge of his bed. 

Somehow Kenny manages to sit up and speak before Stan’s brain catches up. It’s a shame he didn’t like Clyde’s morning wood, they really do seem to be made for each other; that or they were separated at birth. The pout on the blonde boys lips is only present momentarily, if you’d blinked you’d have missed it. Then he pushes backwards, out of my reach his smirk returning and shrugs.   
“I mean, if anything he’d be the one fucking you right?”  
My own jaw drops a little as heat rushes through me, cheeks on fire. The fact that his smirk is growing tells me it’s visible; that my body has betrayed me and answered without permission. He seriously fucking knows everything. Realistically I can assume a drunken Clyde said something last night; earned himself a beating. A darker part of my mind wonders how often Kenny really is lurking in the shadows, observing without being noticed. He’s out of arms reach now, so instead I kick out my leg catching him in the side; softer than I’d have liked. 

Stan’s face is scrunched in concentration, confusion and mild disgust. It’s like someone just asked him to do long devision in his head. He’s trying his best but he just can’t make it add up. I’m just about beginning to think myself lucky, that he won’t know, untill he finally questions it. And of course Kenny is only too happy to oblige him.   
“I’m saying that Craig is the bottom Stan. Do try to keep up.”  
Both pairs of blue eyes bulge trained to the blonde. His toothy grin has reached ridiculous proportions. Stan is stunned and I’m mortified. A deep growl forming in my stomach rolls up through my body and out of my mouth. Everything is red. I’m on my feet closing in, towering over the boy on the floor below me, set to pounce, strike, fucking kill. “Do you have a fucking death wish McCormick?!”

Stan seeming to have finally caught up jumps into action, literally, reading my stance he’s placed himself between us; directly in the line of fire. Idiot. I don’t react quickly enough, my arm already swinging as I register the new likely target. My knuckles throb upon making contact with his chin. “Fuck!” Shaking my hand I groan in realisation that I’ve punched the wrong guy, though to be fair he probably still deserves it. His face winces as a small yelp falls, hand immediately moving to rub over the spot gently. Kenny simply begins laughing like a manic mad man. 

Turning my back on the pair, I move over to the window, gripping the ledge so hard my knuckles whiten, and take deep breaths trying to calm down. Stan is remaining remarkably calm, had it been the other way round I’d have hit him back regardless of his intention. Kenny’s laughter still isn’t letting up, what he finds so humerus about the concept of death I have no idea. 

Apparently I’m not the only one this is grinding on, as it’s long before Stan is telling him to shut the fuck up. Maybe he’s finally realised that Kenny was just head fucking him with the Kyle stuff, better late than never I suppose. Intense emotions are exhausting, and I’m nearing my limit, I don’t want to let go of the anger at all; yet I do because it’s blinding me. With a heavy defeated sigh I move back over to again sit on the edge of the bed, anger mostly gone, yet scowl still set in place. 

Kenny’s laughter had died down, his usual smirk replaced by a thoughtful considering stare alternating between Stan and myself. That can’t be a good thing. Gritting my teeth I attempt to further deepen my death glare, and eureka it works. His eyebrow raises and with a shrug his stare narrows on Stan.   
“You were an asshole last night.”  
He isn’t wrong. Clearly Stan disagrees, blinking, mouth opening and closing, his own brow forms a frown to rival my own.   
“I didn’t do or say anything!”  
Kenny’s tongue clucks in response, arm crossing.   
“Kyle was a wreck when you left. And don’t try to pretend you don’t care.”  
I see what I believe to be a flash of pain cross Stan’s face before it hardens again and he shakes his head.   
“Stay out of this Kenny.”  
My eyebrow raises as my eyes dart between them, snapping from boy to boy as heated words are exchanged. It’s like I’m spectating a vocal game of Olympic ping pong. Voices raise as Kenny refuses Stan’s many demands for him to leave it alone; that it’s none of his business. As Stan practically screams at him again to ‘stay out of it’, Kenny’s scoff cuts him off. His volume drops but his voice remaining firm.   
“Stay out of this? Stay? I’ve been in this forever you idiot. Till Craig turned up I was the only one dealing with Kyle crying himself to sleep at night. You know, Craig said something to Wendy I think you should consider. You don’t destroy the people you love, so fucking get off your high horse and stop it. Because that’s what you’re doing, you’ve really messed him up.”  
Stan looks like he’s been slapped. I’m not sure if I’m impressed or disturbed that he remembered my words. If I really think about it, regardless I’m not all that surprised. Either way Stan isn’t arguing the love part. 

Moving slowly Stan takes a seat next to me, hanging his head and pinching the bridge of his nose, taking heavy breaths. Outwardly Kenny has a seemingly egotistical persona, however when you chip through the surface layer it’s obvious he cares deeply for both Stan and Kyle. Stan hadn’t wanted to hear that, but he needed too. I’ve tried and I haven’t broken through, we may have become closer recently but I’m not at the level Kenny is; not even close. He’s made Stan hear him whether he wanted to or not. As I find myself nodding a little in agreement, I push back the small blush threatening to form and chuckle inwardly to myself. I never thought I’d see the day Kenny was the voice of reason. 

Of course no sooner have I given Kenny credit, than do I immediately regret it. Stan’s internal torment is written all over his face. Kenny noticing this considers his work done, his eyes and smirk have returned to me. Shit. Gritting my teeth, my jaw tenses as I meet his stare. I know he won’t let up, even if it buys him another punch. His small hum has me bracing before he speaks.   
“So, Tweek said he was going after you last night?”  
Huh, wasn’t quite expecting that. That’s not so bad. My jaw relaxes as I blink at him, pushing away the blush threatening to form and letting a usual frown return. “That’s not Tweek.”  
Kenny’s eyes roll as he chuckles, it’d seem he’d predicted that. Stan has finally been pulled from him bubble and is blinking in such a confused state I almost pity him. Shrugging and crossing his arms Kenny sighs.   
“Well what would you have me call him? It’s still his name even if he’s the wrong one.”  
He’s right. No fucking way am I telling him that though. “Whatever, I don’t care.” Lie, I care too much. As Kenny’s smirk grows I question why I even bother lying, he sees straight through it anyway.   
“Sure, if you say so. Anyway, what happened? Do we know how he got here?”

Once again Stan has lost the battle with logic, he shakes his head waving the white flag of surrender. Instead he implants himself in the conversation.   
“What the hell are you two talking about?”  
Both Kenny and myself turn blinking to look at Stan. Oh shit, he literally knows nothing about this does he? In all the time I’ve spent with him recently, it would seem that he’s the one person with no knowledge of alternative realities or parallel universes. Lucky bastard. 

As I’d remained tight lipped, the task of explanation fell to Kenny. Seeing as he loves the sound of his own voice, I’d imagine he’s pleased enough with it. Stan’s blank stare and incessant blinking are grinding on me long before Kenny. Hell anytime Kenny is forced to repeat himself I find myself getting more annoyed. This was even fucking easier to explain to Clyde. Though I’d imagine that’s owing to the fact that Stan actually wants to understand, Clyde is happy enough remaining clueless. The clock on the wall tells me it takes 32 minutes for Stan to comprehend enough at least for the conversation to move forwards. As I’m so relieved that it’s over, I find myself less annoyed than I should be when Kenny returns to his former task, interrogating me. Each answer I give is short and blunt, it isn’t long before he realises that the Tweek who’s not Tweek gave us neither explanations nor resolutions. 

He looks ready to question me further, Stan looks like he’s given up. Me? I’ve just had enough. Standing I shake my head and cut him off before he can speak again. Somehow I’ve managed to say more than I’d wanted about myself ,and also not asked what I’d entered intending to. I’m annoyed at myself, but equally will take going in blind over prolonging this torture. “I’m going to see Token.” Then without waiting for responses I turn and leave.


	30. Chapter 30

Kenny had tried to protest, though mustn’t have been overly bothered as he didn’t persist. I’d imagine Stan will provide more than enough entertainment for him as he squirms under interrogation. Part of me wonders how long he’ll last before once again running away from it; though given that it’s Kenny he may have a higher tolerance. A larger part of me is concerned for my current objective. Talking to Token could go disastrously if he’s still with her and I go in too harshly. Which I’m renowned for doing. Shit, surely he isn’t that stupid?

I’d found myself taking shorter steps, stretching out the distance, trying to buy time. Something I’m pretty sure that everyone does, it’s easier to put something off when it’s unpleasant. Realistically this solves nothing, you’re not buying time; you’re wasting it. More than that, you may feel like you’ve ‘bought’ time; however what you’ve really purchased is extended anxiety. After all if you spend time worrying whilst avoiding something, you just put yourself through it twice. Typically by the time I’ve realised this I’m in front of his house, already anxious and out of time to actually think about what to say. Fucking fantastic. 

Not wanting to stretch out this torture further I knock quickly, let’s just get this over with. His mother answers the door, and her bright smile and kind words lift my mood slightly. It’d seem she’s one of the few parents in town who still like me. I decline her offer of a drink before turning to walk up to Token’s room. The drastic contrast between this house and the one I’ve recently left are laughable. The Black family have more money than I feel is truly necessary, the McCormick’s are living on the breadline; it seems inconceivable that the walk across town can take you from one to the other. I guess I’m just grateful that despite his families wealth, Token hasn’t been tainted, that he’s remained for the most part pretty down to earth, and overly generous. Something Tweek, Clyde and myself have benefited from more than once. 

Squeezing my eyes closed I take a deep breath before knocking on his door and letting myself in. And holy crap I learn my lesson; I’ll be fucking waiting from now on. My jaw drops, eyes bulging as my mind screams at me to run, but my body isn’t listening; I’m seemingly paralysed in place. He isn’t alone, and he’s naked, and so is she; legs spread and everything. If I was ever remotely doubtful of my homosexuality? Well not anymore. I can only imagine how I’m currently feeling is not too dissimilar to how others feel when watching a horror movie. Body still not moving, my eyes manage to squeeze shut as my voice cuts through her moans. “Holy shit!” Where my knock had gone unnoticed by them, my voice has not, Token letting out a yelp of surprise pulling away from her as Wendy’s scream cuts through the air. 

My legs finally began moving moments before her shrill squeals for me to get out started. She honestly doesn’t need to ask, I’d rather be anywhere else. Slamming the door behind me I lean back against the wall; I’m going to have fucking nightmares about this. Hell I’ve seen straight porn before, and Clyde’s room is still full of old playboys; but that was something else. Good god of all the vaginas I’d ever want to see, if there’s any, hers wouldn’t be on the list. I feel dirty. 

Token appears moments later in only boxers looking sheepish and shrugging.  
“Uh sorry about that.”  
Rolling my eyes I glare at him, “I feel like I need to bleach my eyes.” He blushes slightly sighing.  
“I mean, I’ve told you before about knocking man.”  
“I did knock.” I fire back. He blinks blushing more and sighs scratching at the back of his neck.  
“Oh right.”  
Letting out a deep sigh I shake my head, because really I’m not even mad that I saw that. Well not mad at him anyway, maybe at myself; Clyde will love this. The thing pissing me off is that its her, that he’s obviously still with her. In every other way he’s the same guy I’ve always known, yet I can’t understand this. How he can stand by her after everything she’s said and done. It’s a side of him I’ve not seen before, don’t like, and I’m not sure but fear it could be, for the first time, something that creates major implications for our friendship. If he’s really just going to lay down and accept this then I’m not going to be able to bite my tongue. And realistically, were it the other way around and he was to take a dislike to Tweek I know I wouldn’t react well. 

Keeping my eyes to the floor I sigh, not wanting to speak for fear of what I may say. He too remains silent and it scares me to realise that this silence is more uncomfortable than the one I’d shared with Stan earlier. What felt like hours but was probably only moments later a, thankfully now dressed, Wendy storms out of the room, arms crossed and eyes narrowed on me.  
“What the fuck Craig?! How dare you! I was naked!”  
No shit Sherlock, my eyes roll as I raise them to meet her stare. “I noticed, it was horrifying.” Her mouth drops open, cheeks flushing as her frown deepens. I also notice Token face palm at my words but oh well. I expect her to scream at me, instead her head snaps to Token as her teeth grit.  
“Are you going to let him speak to me like that?”  
He blinks like a deer in the headlights, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish as his eyes dart between us. Panic is written all over his face, his loyalties are divided, and apparently he takes to long because she lets out a frustrated growl before turning to leave. 

Only once she’s gone does his frown set in, I don’t care. Shaking my head I turn to walk back into his room, grimacing a little at the bed, electing instead to sit on the couch. Frown growing he follows after me.  
“Why Craig?”  
Now that’s a broad question, and one I could quite easily fire back at him; instead I raise an eyebrow shrugging. “Would you rather I’d liked it?” Groaning he pinches his nose.  
“Can you stop being a sarcastic little shit for once? Why are you going out of your way to be a dick to her? Do you just want to make my life hard?”  
Blinking up at him I can’t stop the scoff from falling, me? Seriously, I’m making his life hard? The noise pulls his hard stare back to me, I shouldn’t say it, I know I shouldn’t, I still do. “She’s a fucking bitch Token.”  
His frown falls mostly due to surprise. I’m known for being blunt, telling it as it is; yet he’s taking this as a personal attack. But it’s true, so I’m not even sorry. “I have no idea why you’re still with her.” His frown returns as he shakes his head turning his back to me and beginning to pace.  
“She was hurt Craig, people do stupid things when they’re hurt. But you don’t see what it’s like when it’s just the two of us okay? So can’t you just butt out and be happy for me?”  
As his eyes return to me they’re almost pleading. I feel a lump in my throat and a pang of guilt as well as some self sorrow, knowing that what I’m about to say may cost me one of my longest friendships. 

Even if I rack my memory, I’m hard pressed to remember a time when we hadn’t been friends. Almost all of my childhood memories include him. We’ve had petty arguments and short term disagreements over the years but have always moved forwards. Imagining a world in which he isn’t in my life is soul destroying; makes me not want to do this. To just agree, step back and try to be happy for him. Because I want him to be happy, truly. But I can’t with her. Because if I do I’m saying it’s okay. It’s okay for her to destroy people, people who I may not have been close to for long but I’m learning are becoming friends. I can’t be the friend Token’s asking me to be because it’s not fair to freshly blossoming friendships. Either choice has a price but one includes my integrity. 

My teeth pull sharply at my lip as I watch his face, in turn letting him read mine. His pleading stare drops, I watch flashes of emotion cross his face like fireworks as he realises my answer before I even speak. “Token I- shit. I-I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”  
His own scoff follows my words as he shakes his head. Anger sits at the back of his eyes, hurt at the forefront. My own head hangs as I practically hear the cracks form in our friendship. Silence so uncomfortable it’s deafening falls between us. Lines have been drawn and there’s no way back. Even if someday we move forwards I fear things will never be the same. Only time can tell. 

My mind is racing, palms sweaty and heartbeat sounding in my ears. There’s nothing left to be said yet so much more I’d like to say. My heads spinning with memories, willing to beg him to think, really fucking think about this. Because he knows me, know I wouldn’t be doing this without reason. But Craig Tucker doesn’t beg, so I don’t. Slowly I stand, finally raising my head to look at him and sigh. “I love you man, and I always will. But this isn’t right. Deep down I think you know that, come find me when you realise?” I can feel the pleading expression has now moved to my face as I wait, but the question hangs in the air unanswered. With a heavy sigh I nod slightly before turning to leave. Learning that hearts can break in more ways than one.


	31. Chapter 31

Hands push into my pockets, my face feels hot, eyes beginning to water, as I start to walk away from his house. I wonder how long it’ll be before, or if I’ll ever return. The lump in my throat is too large to swallow. I fucking hate change, crave consistency. And now I have no idea where my boyfriend is, can’t fucking go home and have also most probably lost one of my best friends. It’s too fucking much. The problem with change is it’s inevitability, time passes and things change every damn day. Seasons cycle, nature too, yet humans are the only species that seems to run from change; try to defy time. I’m learning however that it always catches up with you in the end. The harder you fight it the harder it hits you when it happens. I don’t want to do this anymore. 

I’m tired, so tired, I just want it to stop. I know it doesn’t work that way, I’m stuck having to deal with this. But I can’t. Not anymore. I wish I could manage some ounce of positivity, but I’m wrecked and I’m sad and so fucking tired. I can’t. 

Memories play in a slide show, highlighting further my most recent loss. I’m not sure where I’m going anymore, a small part of me longs to return home, gain some familiarity, all I really want is someone, anyone, to tell me this is going to be okay. A larger part of me is fully aware I wouldn’t receive that even if I did go home; making it not a non viable option. I could go to Clyde, right now I wouldn’t even fight a hug. But then I’d also be required to explain to him that our trio may be no more; I fear that were he to have pick sides I’d lose him too. This suddenly seems like a parental separation, and I have no idea who gets custody of Clyde. All I do know is that if I lose him as well I think I’ll give up. The weight of everything is crushing down on me and I’m losing the will to fight it. I’ve already lost myself. 

Mind defeated my body takes over, carrying me on autopilot back the the heart of the town. At I pass Tweek’s parents coffee shop I note it’s still shut. Only further emphasising his disappearance. The stinging in my eyes is intensifying, emotions are threatening to bubble out and unload in public. I won’t let that happen, racking my weary mind I beg it for answers. Both of my best friends aren’t currently options, however I am reminded of the reason that Token isn’t. I sacrificed his friendship for new ones right? So maybe I need to work on them.

With Stan I’m sure we’d just get high, that I could push my problems away and try to avoid them longer; my usual go to. I consider it, I really fucking do, but there’s no guarantees that he isn’t still with Kenny. More so than that I know it won’t help, not in the long run, as I figured out earlier; in avoidance I’d only be prolonging my own suffering. Something tells me that Kyle is the better option, that if anyone is going to understand it’ll be him. Taking a deep breath I chew on my lip decision made, and pass the dark coffee shop with a heavy heart to walk towards his house. As I start down his road I realise that it would be easier of course if I was actually welcome in there. There’s no way his mom would let me in. Never mind I’ll just avoid being seen. 

It’s dark enough in the back yard that I can slip through unseen, I mean Kenny does it so how hard can it be? Once again I find myself climbing up a drainpipe, I probably shouldn’t be as good at this as I am. Kyle must have heard me coming, because once I reach the window I’m met by his bemused stare. He’d been expecting Kenny obviously, clinging to the frame I raise an eyebrow, “wanna give me a hand?” His cheeks darken at my words, quickly reacting to help pull me inside and hastily muttering apologies for taking so long. Once my feet are firmly on the ground I feel my body relax a little, my emotions are still ready to overspill, I’m not saying I’m happy that he’s going to see this; I’m just glad no one else is. 

My eyes stay trained to the floor as I hear panic creep into his voice, manic mutters of his mother tumbling out as he quickly locks his bedroom door. My demeanour without view of my face must remain the same as he hasn’t noticed anything unusual yet. My tears are ready to fall, I can feel them forming, but not yet. First my mind needs to take the final blow, I don’t want to be here; not really. More than that there’s no where I want to be. When a person becomes your home then leaves you have nothing. I have nothing. His voice catches mid sentence as he finally notices me, yet he doesn’t speak. I can feel his stare burning into me, I can’t look up. 

Sitting on his bed I let out a long heavy sigh, resting my head in my hands I feel my whole body sag. It’d appear that between the now locked door and my far too obvious unhappiness, he’s remained somewhat relaxed. The small squeak and dip from beside me lets me know that he’s sat beside me, without me having to raise my head to check. Really I’d imagine that the longer I remain silent and brooding, then the more time he has to come up with questions. From experience with Clyde these questions tend to get more intrusive the longer he has to think. My dad would tell me to ‘man up’, even my own brain is telling me to push it down and save it till I’m alone. Taking a deep breath I tense my jaw, raising my head to meet his stare, trying to force my usual emotionless expression. His brow is furrowed with obvious concern, his candid emotion takes me by surprise. I hadn’t realised that I’d earned this level of care from him. This realisation has me faltering, a familiar stinging behind my eyes is a warning of emotions threatening to overspill imminently. Emotions which are flowing thick and fast like current within water, they’re pounding the dam, threatening to break it down. Finally his voice cuts through the air and with them the dam bursts.   
“Are you okay?”

And once the tears start I’m powerless to stop them, they’re falling thick and fast. I’d had no intention of letting him see this, he’d had no idea of the impact those three words could have. Craig Tucker is made of stone, heartless and emotionless alike right? Well even stone can crumble upon the right impact. My vision is blurred, I’m unable to read his expression; but I don’t need too, because he makes the move. No need for words he closes the gap between us, encasing me with his arms. It’s all wrong, nothing makes sense, I’ve turned my back on Token, my tears are dampening Kyle’s shirt. I find my own hands gripping to the material beneath them, trying to anchor myself against the sobs tumbling. I can feel his heartbeat against my face, it’s rhythmic beating is comforting. I tense momentarily as his thumbs begin drawing circles on my back, before giving in to the soothing touch as I choke back a further sob. 

He realises I’m not ready to speak, stays silent himself waiting. As I let out a heavy breath against his chest I feel him tense slightly against me. Suddenly there’s fresh guilt pounding through me. This is an act of friendship, comfort, it’s innocent. Yet it’s also intimate, it’s come on far too easily, I don’t let my walls down fast; usually. I don’t know how that’s different with Kyle but clearly it is. My own heartbeat is thumping harder, blush forming as I release my grip on the sides of his shirt and hear his breath catch. I don’t want him and I’m not who he wants either. But on some level something is buzzing, and at the very least a sinking in the pit of my stomach suspects this is wrong. Some kind of emotional adultery? Fuck I don’t know, I just know that right now I wouldn’t be surprised if something further happened. And that’s not okay. 

I pull back, but it’s reluctantly and I hate myself for that. I can’t push the blush away, but he wears a matching one so it doesn’t particularly matter. Silence still reigns as our eyes meet, within his I see my own feelings: confusion, hurt, fear, desperation, the whole fucking mix is shining back at me. Something is lacing the air, my cheeks burn brighter still, I’ve become hyper aware of his every movement, teeth pull lightly at the corner of his lip, tongue darting over the spot upon its release. Need is exuding from both of us, it’s palpable; the problem is that the need is misplaced; the need is for something else entirely. Both seeming to realise this, we’re paralysed under its power, neither knowing what to do. Simultaneously both fully aware of what not to do, yet somehow it seems the only option. My mind is screaming for Tweek, but I don’t know where he is and this is so easy; too easy. Slowly the distance closes, He’s leaning in, both of our breaths hitch as my eyes again dart to his lips. I need to stop, pull back, run. But I don’t. There’s barely an inch between us, I can feel his warm breath against my skin, I see his eyes close, I know what’s coming; this is my last chance. 

But as it turns out that choice isn’t mine, I don’t get to make the decision. I’d like to say I’d have done the right thing; I don’t know if I can. The gasp from the window has us both jump so hard and far apart that whatever the hell that was is gone in an instant. It didn’t happen, it fucking didn’t, but that doesn’t matter. Because it nearly did and I fucking let it. Self hatred and overwhelming guilt take turns at pounding my brain. Fucking hell I’m a piece of shit. Sure he’s in love with someone else but at least he’s fucking single. What the hell am I doing? My eyes dart between the two boys. Kyle looks as bewildered and guilty as I feel over his actions. But more than that I read fear, fear I quickly understand, he isn’t looking at me; his stare is trained to the boy in the window. And suddenly I’m fucking terrified. Because of all the people to catch us in that position, something I never want anyone to know about, the worst option has happened, Kenny. 

By back presses back to the corner of the wall, knees pulled to my chest as my horrified stare remains trained to him. Kyle is off the bed and standing, eyes darting between the two of us, mouth repeatedly opening to speak but no words coming. The tears are back, thankfully at least time they’re falling silently. Kenny’s eyes selected Kyle as their target, squeezing my own closed I press my head to my knees, hopefully I can stop them before he comes back to me. I hear him land on the floor clucking his tongue as he finally fully enters through the window. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, nails digging into my arms, this is really fucking bad. I can’t see, but their silence suggests each is waiting for the other to speak. Kenny gives in first.   
“Fucking hell you don’t make things easy do you? I just spent the afternoon convincing Stan that he didn’t need to worry about you and Bebe. Because he was terrified. Do I really now need to tell him I found you practically in bed with Craig? God it’s like every time I fix something for you, you up the difficulty settings.”  
I wince at his word choice, what happened was bad but it wasn’t how he’s making it sound; if that’s what people are going to hear then everything really is over. 

I’ve given up the fight, accepted my fate. I have no right to worry or feel sorry for myself; this is karma, I deserve it. As it turns out, Kyle doesn’t feel the same; seems to have finally reached his tolerance level for Kenny’s shit.   
“Kenny I’m a person! I can’t stand this! I’m not a plaything or a character in some game for your amusement! You’re supposed to be my friend! I need you to act like one! To understand that I need to do this alone! I need you to not go out of your way to make things harder because it amuses you!”

Tears stemming as numbness sets in I raise my head to catch the look of surprise cross Kenny’s face. Kyle’s tone was venomous, uncharacteristic and pretty fucking impressive. In fact the only other person I’ve ever seen his seem so furious with before is Cartman. When I consider his words I realise that Kenny’s comment had just been the final nail in the coffin. This his been building for a while, brewing within Kyle. Something in him has changed, shifted; he too has reached a personal limit. Kenny tries to laugh him off first, then to reason with him and before long they’re full on arguing. Voices remain low, though the harsh gritted tones still show their words malice. I simply listen, I don’t know what else to do at this point. My head returns to my knees, aching eyes squeezing back closed as they continue their vocal battle. 

Eventually the spite filled voices in my mind are louder than theirs are filling the room, drowning them out as they attack me instead. I let this happen, I didn’t stop him. I’m almost positive it wasn’t anything more than him needing to feel wanted. But what excuse do I have? If all I’d wanted was to feel things would be okay then I’ve gone the complete wrong fucking way about it. How can anything ever be okay again? My primary focus is still to bring my Tweek back, though whether I’ll still be able to call him mine I don’t know. I have no idea what I’ll say, or how I’ll get the words out; but I know I’m going to tell him what happened, I have too. I’ve risked everything, because that’s what he is, he is everything. Since he’s been gone I’ve felt half alive, I need him more than he ever needed me; that much is clear now. Finding him could result in losing him forever, but I won’t stop searching until it kills me. Because no matter what this means for me, I’m going to do it for him.


	32. Chapter 32

I’d completely zoned out, had absolutely no concept of anything going on around me. I hadn’t noticed their argument ending, don’t know who won, didn’t see kenny leave, oblivious to the silence now filling Kyle’s room. I couldn’t even guess how long he’s been staring at me when I raise my head. My head is heavy from crying, catching his eyes has my cheeks burning again; at a complete loss for words. Turning my head to avoid his gaze I let out a heavy sigh and mumble “fuck.” He hesitates before finally speaking.  
“I uhh, shit I’m sorry.”  
My eyes roll, of course he is. But I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at myself. He doesn’t need to be sorry, that won’t help anything. My lack of response must make him anxious, I’d imagine he’s currently blaming himself for the whole thing; but yet while he leant in, I hadn’t pulled back, this blame is shared. 

Silence clearly gives him time to think before a half hearted laugh pierces the air as he begins to ramble.  
“You know, I always used to think I was a good guy. Not someone who’d go out of my way to hurt anyone, not the kind of guy to go after people who’re taken. My current track record isn’t great though.”  
A more strangled laugh follow suggesting he’s trying to see the funny side, if there is one; avoidance again. With another heavy sigh I turn my head slowly to look at him, otherwise I think he’s just going to keep torturing himself until I stop him.  
“I really am sorry, I-I don’t even know why I did that.”  
Shaking my head I clear my throat a little, drawing his attention back to me and sigh softly shrugging, “Kyle, stop. We, w-we both know that wasn’t just you.”  
I trail off as my cheeks burn again, but he’s ready and waiting with a retort.  
“But I started it-“  
My glare cuts him off mid sentence, his head hanging as he chews his lip. The words leave my mouth, I know them to be true yet hearing them seems to make it worse; the words are bitter on my tongue. “And I didn’t stop it. We both fucked up okay? But you didn’t force anything, it’s not your fault.” His blush grows, he doesn’t look like he fully believes me, but lets me continue. “But what I did was wrong. If it’d happened I’d have been using you, as some kind of substitute. And that’s fucked up too, god what is wrong with me? Just, no Kyle okay? I don’t want that. I.. shit I uh.. I’m sorry.”

His cheeks light up to rival mine as I come to a stop, quickly shaking his head.  
“No! Oh god don’t be sorry, I mean I don’t want it either!”  
Blinking I study his face, finding no trace of a lie I relax a little. Rubbing at the back of his neck he sighs.  
“It just felt simple and easy, that’s all I want. But not with you, you know that. Though I guess me trying to kiss you probably made things less clear, oh god.”  
He’s spiralling again, but his words sound so familiar they could be mine, despite everything I find myself laughing. His blush actually manages to darken a few shades, confusion on his face as he watches me. But I can’t stop because this is ridiculous. All of it. Both of us have just fucked over things we actually care about because we’re essentially lonely. Jesus fucking Christ that’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. 

My laughing had died off eventually, he’d looked ready to question it, but I shook my head before he could and he seemed to respect that. Instead I see fresh panic in his eyes, teeth pulling at his lip before he speaks.  
“I uh, I get that it’s weird. But I mean, we both know where we stand now. So maybe we can try to forget it? I could still use a friend.”  
There’s a level of pleading in his words that he need not have applied. It is awkward, there’s no getting around that, and there’s no way I’ll forget that it happened. But he isn’t really asking that I forget the event, just that we move past it. I can do that, given that I feel the majority of the blame is mine anyway. Plus I’m not exactly surrounded by friends myself right now. I can try to forget it around him, at the very least ignore it; but when I see Tweek is when I’ll truly have to confront this. I meet his eyes offering a weak smile and a small nod, his own wide grin responds, relief clearly visible. 

He returned to sit on the bed, though this time he’s as far away from me as it’ll allow. It’s still awkward, it probably will be for a while. But in attempt of cutting it short Kyle elects to speak.  
“I never got to ask, but what’s wrong? Um, why were you crying?”  
Blinking I chuckle shaking my head, partly because he’s right. Mostly because of the rollercoaster of emotions I’ve had today. Fingers push through my hair, tugging a little as I bite down on my lip. My eyes sting again but there’s no tears left to fall. “I uhh, I guess everything in one way or another. But Token and I had an argument.”  
He blinks nodding a little, even that sounds pathetic when I say it. “I don’t think we’re friends anymore.” He remained silent, letting me unload as I rattled out the ridiculousness that is the story of my day. It’s certainly been eventful. When I finish I finally look back to him with a sigh, his mouth is opening and closing. I can’t blame him for needing a moment to process.  
“Wow, I mean- wow. I can’t believe you walked in on that.”

My eyes roll as I flip him off. Of course that’s the part he zoned in on. “Yeah you and me both, but damn man, I must be gayer than you. Because ew, I have no idea how you slept with Bebe.”  
His eyes bulge as he blushes before laughing.  
“Oh shut up.”  
Shrugging I raise an eyebrow and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.  
“Stan was being an ass, Wendy was being a bitch. I was drunk and it just happened. Kinda like we were just trying to comfort each other and- oh.”  
His cheeks burn crimson, I feel heat on my own. That sounds familiar. Shaking my head I try to push past. “Still, a girl?” Kyle looks mildly thankful at my bypass, even if it was a stab at him.  
“It.. it wasn’t bad. I mean, it still felt good. I mean, well it would, That’s what textbooks say. It’s a natural reaction to stimulation. But uh, just, I wasn’t exactly thinking about her.”  
His cheeks blush further as I start to laugh. “How the hell can you pretend Bebe is Stan?”

His frustrated groans and attempted explanations lasted for a while before he realised I wasn’t fully mocking him. Between the fatass and Kenny I guess that what he’s used too. Assholes. Shaking my head I chuckle. “I don’t care Kyle. It’s just hard to imagine, but I don’t need to imagine that anyway.” That was blunter than he’s used to, his slight flinch gives it away, but he seems to realise that from me that’s usual; and if he wants to be friends then he’ll have to get used to it. Nodding he continues, once again giving me more details than are truly necessary; I know far too much about other people’s sex lives nowadays. 

The gaps of silence between our worlds still held unease, as I’d suspected awkwardness is going to stick around a while. Really it’d be unreasonable to expect anything else. Each time one comes I avert my gaze from him, eventually landing on the clock; time had escaped me again, it’s late. His stare follows mine and his eyes widen blinking as his mouth forms an O. I can see him thinking, possibly arguing with himself before he speaks.  
“Craig, have you been home yet?”  
Heat rises up through my body, my cheeks flushing answer him before I’ve nodded. I could explain that I’ve been home in the sense of broken in and avoided everyone, but that seems unnecessary. So I don’t. His face scrunch’s to reflect the now clearly evident internal struggle. Being that this is Kyle I’d imagine that he knows fully what he wants to say, just not if he should. Sighing I turn my eyes back to the clock wondering how much time will pass before he simultaneously wins and loses the argument. 

Seven minutes. Seven minutes of silence. Seven minutes in which I decide I’m going to Clyde’s. That I’m not telling him anything untill tomorrow. That I may as well fucking tell him everything when I do, he’ll only hear Kenny’s account otherwise. Well, that actually only took about two minutes, the rest of the time my brain made detailed lists of all the reasons I don’t deserve Tweek. Convinced me that I’m going to lose him, and I deserve that. Was just starting to consider how Stan will react. Wondering if kenny has already told him. But after seven minutes Kyle talks again.  
“You, you could stay here?”  
My eyes bulge a little momentarily before I relax. I probably could, now that the moment has passed I don’t think anything would happen, well I know it wouldn’t; I’ve learnt my lesson. What I mean is I don’t think he’d try anything else, but regardless no. Clearly I’m stupid, but not that fucking stupid. His cheeks flush as he hastily adds.  
“Just I mean if you need somewhere to sleep! Nothing else, I could even sleep on the floor.”  
I’d blushed at the suggestion at first, but his own embarrassment and panicked justifications have me laughing, with a shrug I raise an eyebrow and smirk. “You’d really give up the bed for me?” He blinks up at me ready to answer before realising I’m teasing and groaning.  
“I didn’t mean-“  
I shake my head laughing again and cut him off. “I know. And thanks, really. But I’m gonna head to Clyde’s.”


	33. Chapter 33

Fresh panic had shone through Kyle’s eyes, however after a few minutes of his questioning and my reassurances that I’d still talk to him Monday. I’d left his house in the same manner I’d arrived; through the window. Light rain falls around me, dampening my body along with my spirits. I still can’t believe I was so idiotic, hell even Clyde will be able to call me stupid for once. The walk to His doesn’t take long, and though the downstairs lights are off, the upstairs are shining through the curtains, meaning he’s up. My eyes dart around his front garden, searching for the ominous red glow, but the demon cat is nowhere to be seen. Typical, I actually feel I deserve a mauling today. Regardless slight relief passes through me as I make my way to his front door and knock. 

It’d taken enough time for me to get annoyed, for him to answer, the rain is getting heavier by the time he opens the door; only in his boxer. I blink rolling my eyes pushing past him and inside, I’m used to this by now. While Clyde didn’t get blessed with brains, he is pretty good to look at; and he knows it. You wouldn’t catch me dead opening the door wearing so little. On a lot of people, knowing you’re attractive is, well unattractive. On Clyde? Well somehow combined with his moronic stupidity it gives him a kind of charm. His eyebrow raises studying my face as his lopsided grin noticeably falls, I haven’t seen a mirror but under his stare I assume it’s still evident that I’ve been crying. I watch him think, can see his brain working, and I know what’s coming. I don’t fight it. His arms wrap tightly around me, my own cheeks flushing a little; but it definitely feels good to know someone cares. Internally I curse myself for not just having come here in the first place; but it’s too late for that now. 

Having been overcome by joy at my lack of fighting his embrace, it’d taken him a while to process the unusualness of that. As he pulls back I see his grin slip once again as his brow furrows in confusion.  
“You let me hug you.”  
I shrug a little in response turning to walk up to his room. I’m cold and wet and want to get changed. Still baffled he follows he up, not even attempting to argue as I rummage through his drawers until I find something of his I deem acceptable. Outfit selected I turn to find him sat on his bed watching me.  
“Help yourself why don’t you?”  
His lopsided grin is back, meaning he doesn’t actually care. Shrugging I flip him off before walking through to the bathroom to change. Clyde’s laughter carrying after me, he’s never understood my need for privacy. As I pull off my wet clothes, tossing them in the tub, my eyes find my reflection in the mirror and I sigh. I look fucking awful. Yes my eyes are still bloodshot, rimmed with red. But more than that, they’re hollow; dark circles clear even beneath the prominent red. My skin is more sickly pale than usual, hell I can see my fucking ribs. Sure I’ve never had that much meat on me, but I’ve also never before been at the stage where I could be used as a xylophone. Biting down on my lip, I avert my eyes and hastily pull on Clyde’s clothes. Only once they’re on, they do nothing to ease my mind, hanging so loose on my body that I look like a kid playing dress up. With one last look at myself I sigh turning to walk out, holding the pants at the waist to keep them up. Resolving that I need to regain some routine, start eating normally, that’s at least one thing I can control right now. 

Once I reenter the room I find Clyde’s smile has been switched for a pout. Bottom lip stick out so far that he looks fucking ridiculous, arms crossed and a small frown on his brow. Raising an eyebrow I meet his gaze. “What have I done now?” His lip manages to stick out further as he huffs.  
“You left me at Bebe’s.”  
I blink at the boys now wide eyed stare and laugh shaking my head “oh boo fucking who, I know you still had a decent night. Said something you shouldn’t have?” My eyebrow raises as I return him a frown of my own. Watching his cheeks flush as he blinks it’s evident he’s not aware of what that was. Rolling my eyes I walk over, punching him in the arm before dropping down next to him on the bed. “Keep your fucking mouth shut around Kenny. Everyone will probably know about my sex life by school Monday.” His pained wail at the contact cut through the room, rubbing at his bicep as he pouts at me before blinking as my words register.  
“Oh. Oops.”  
Rolling my eyes I flip him off again, fucking oops? Dick. 

Resting my head back to the pillows I let out a heavy sigh, slipping my eyes closed. My best friend however, finally remembers his shock upon my entrance. Bouncing over the bed I feel his weight drop beside me. Sighing again I reluctantly open my eyes to find him staring over at me, because that’s not fucking creepy. Speaking seems too much effort so instead I raise an eyebrow questioningly. Chewing his lip he watches my face, searches my eyes before speaking.  
“You’re not okay. Why?”  
Apparently all the reasons he’s already aware of aren’t enough. That or he’s already forgotten about them. Regardless I’m not ready. With another sigh I shake my head and change the subject. “So how was the rest of the party?” I hadn’t expected his face to fall quite so much at my words. 

The silence which followed his sigh was so unlike him, I actually found myself pushing up a little to look down at him. “What happened?” His groan startled me a little before he sighs.  
“It was right after you left. Kenny said something to Wendy, Wendy got mad. I tried to stop Kyle leaving but that didn’t work. Then Wendy slapped Kenny. And Token just fucking watched!”  
Heartbreak I’d felt myself earlier, coats his face, his head hanging.  
“So we got in an argument and Bebe kicked them out. Now he won’t text me back.”  
If Token keeps this up he’ll end up more isolated than even I. How is it possible for someone to be so intelligent yet so stupid in other ways? Though I guess that’s also true for Kyle. A small huff from the boy beside me pulls me back to the moment, chewing my lip I sigh. “If it makes you feel any better I don’t think he’s talking to me either.”

Clyde has sat up wide eyes and listened readily as I explained my earlier encounter with Token. Of course even more so than Kyle had, he focused in on the fact I’d seen Wendy naked. However my disgust must shine through my answers as he asks very few questions. Trailing off I sigh shrugging. “It’s up to him, it sucks, but he knows we’ll be here waiting for him when he sees sense.” Silence fills the room again as Clyde considers my words, after an amount of time I’d deem too long for anyone else, he lets out a sigh nodding a little, seeming to accept my answer; though his distaste for it is obvious. Of course, seeing this as a sign of the end of the conversation, Clyde immediately starts a new one. Given that he’s told me about his events after I’d left the party, it’s hardly unfair for him to have asked the same of me, and I see no reason to lie about that. My heart aches as his name leaves my lips, because even though the Tweek I’m taking about isn’t mine, he’s very much a reminder of what I’ve potentially lost myself. He is him and not him at the same time. 

I’d ended up explaining three times, dumbing down my wording each time. Hell if he hadn’t have gotten it the last time I think I’d have had to make him a picture book. Though if I’m being fair this is confusing the hell out of me too, so it’s not like he ever stood much of a chance. Sighing and shaking his head he catches my eyes and says possibly the most intelligent thing I’ve ever heard him say.  
“Man, we don’t stand a chance here. Like, everyone knows little bits? Wouldn’t it make more sense to get everyone together? We’re never gonna get this alone.”  
I stop blinking, his cheeks flush a little under my stare, no doubt expecting a sarcastic remark. Instead I push a small smile and shrug. “Maybe there are some brains in there after all.” He’d taken it as a compliment, not noticed its backhandedness, and wore a proud smirk as he relaxed his head back against the pillows. As silence fills the room I let my eyes slip shut again. It’s not just my mind that’s tired anymore, not just my emotions which are weary. Without consciously deciding to, it gives way to sleep. 

As always my dreams are plagued by pale skin topped with wild straw coloured hair, in my waking hours he’s missing; yet my mind can conjure him in an instant. His back is to me as I approach his form, music hums in the background as he moves out of time against it. The corners of my lips pull upwards, I swear I can smell coffee. But with each step towards him I seem to get no closer. It’s infuriating, makes no sense. But still I keep trying, remaining in place as if walking on a treadmill. Futile as it seems I keep going, because it’s him, I’d walk till my legs gave out to get to him. And suddenly it’s working, he’s getting closer. But the music has changed. It’s darker. His head snaps as my hand touches his shoulder, upturned nose and sharp cheekbones in place. But then he opens his eyes and I recoil. Where there should be emerald green orbs, instead sit red glowing spheres. They’re locked to my eyes as I step back, burning into me like fire. His stare hardens as he turns to me finally speaking, words laced with hurt and hate alike.  
“How could you?!”

I jump so hard I wake myself, eyes blinking open I feel arms around me. I tense momentarily before I realise it had been a dream, it felt so fucking real. Sighing I struggle against Clyde’s grip in an attempt to stretch, causing him to grumble in the process. I guess at least someone slept well. Finally free from his grip I push out of his bed with a sigh and run my hand down my face. At least I’m back at school tomorrow, because Clyde is right. we need as many brains as we can get, it’s just a shame Token’s will likely not be included. A heavier sigh tumbles as I rub my eyes glancing down at Clyde. I’ll have to tell him about Kyle today, who knows how many people Kenny will have let slip to by tomorrow. Despite my new found realisation of avoidance being futile, I decide to stick with it for now and let him sleep. Old habits die hard.


	34. Chapter 34

I’d left Clyde to wake up on his own, meaning I had the majority of the morning to myself. I’d forced myself to eat, though only cereal, and set myself on the sofa, tv playing in the background as I attempted to figure out what the hell to say to him. By the time he is stumbling down the stairs I still have no clear answer; though have concluded that it’s in both of our best interests that I keep it simple. A small whine from the kitchen suggests he’s already unimpressed that I haven’t cooked, minutes later he drops down beside me with his own bowl of cereal. 

Having spent the morning thinking about it, I’m more than ready to get it over with, I’m also hoping that if I talk while he eats it’ll drown out the sound of his chewing. Of course, he eats fast, so I figure there’s no time like the present. Letting out a heavy sigh I look away from him chewing my lip. “Kyle tried to kiss me yesterday.” I hear him stop mid crunch and flinch blushing, “a-and I didn’t pull away.” Suddenly his chewing intensifies, making enough room to speak through his mouthful.   
“You kissed Kyle?!”  
The words have me flinching again, I can feel his eyes on me causing my blush to increase. Shaking my head a little and lowering my voice a little I continue, “no, Kenny walked in.”  
Silence falls over us, stunned on his part, and it takes a moment for him to swallow. More than that he puts the still half full bowl down, Jesus I broke Clyde. 

The heat on my face seems to intensify with each passing second of silence. Unable to take it anymore I glance over in time to see him shake his head letting out a heavy sigh.   
“Wow, man, that’s not cool.”  
My eyes shift to the side table behind him, more specifically the lamp upon it. And for a moment I consider bludgeoning the boy with it. Because no fucking shit! I’m fully aware that it isn’t ‘cool’, in fact it’s potentially the least ‘cool’ thing I’ve ever done. And I hate myself for it. Instead I don’t move, I bite down on my lip and hang my head simply nodding. A less judgemental sigh follows as he thinks before speaking again.   
“I mean, are you going to tell Tweek? Well, maybe not this Tweek. The right Tweek. I got that right, right?”  
My eyes roll internally at his rambling, but I let it go with another nod. I am going to tell him, hell maybe I’ll tell both. I hear him let out a small hiss before sighing.   
“Well, I mean that’s good at least. God Craig, all the shit you give me about being dumb?”  
With a sigh, I raise my head again, half heartedly flipping him off, mostly out of habit. But there’s no harshness in my eyes, seeing that he leans in wrapping his arms around me. It’s less pleasant than yesterday, and truly I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve him. Regardless I don’t fight the hug. 

I’d felt a lump forming in my throat as I gave in to his embrace, rested my head to his shoulder letting out a heavy sigh. “I really fucked up.” I feel him shrug and sigh himself, pulling back a little rubbing my back.   
“Yeah, though to be honest I’m surprised it took you this long.”   
My eyes widen as I snap back blinking at him. “What?”  
He flinched, guess there’s fresh anger in my eyes, then sighs scratching at the back of his neck.   
“I just mean.. well, you’re not great with people right? And you do seem to thrive on self sabotage at times?”  
He trails off blushing, offering me a small smile. My frown deepens momentarily, before falling as I groan, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. Fucking great. He isn’t wrong. As I look back to him I see a small smirk forming at the realisation and roll my eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with Clyde?

Once his pouting dies down he looks thoughtful, which in itself is terrifying. I watch him, ready to brace at his words.   
“How do you think he’ll react?”  
I hadn’t braced hard enough for the impact, catapulting through scenarios in quick succession. Because till now I’d only considered the possibility of losing him. Really they’re are a multitude of possible outcomes. He could get mad, hit me; he can pack a hell of a punch. I’d take that; I’d deserve that. He could cry, fuck that one hurts the most. He could try and move forwards, make the relationship work, though while that’d be heaven would things ever truly be the same again? The most terrifying option to me, that I’ve considered that is, I’m sure there are many more I’m overlooking, is that he’d blame himself. Find a way to internalise it, turn it around on himself due to his absence. I won’t let him do that. My eyes feel glazed over, I’m so removed from the moment, that I find myself jumping in a way not dissimilar to that of the boy occupying my thoughts, as Clyde’s voice sounds again.   
“I mean, it may not be as bad as you think. It’s Tweek.”  
I blink at him, his small smile of encouragement and hopefully eyes, and let out a heavy sigh as my face falls further. I don’t know what to think or even hope for, more than that though, it all seems so pointless until we’ve found him. It’s energy consuming; and I’m running low. My lack of response has him pouting before smirking.   
“Told you that you thrive on self sabotage.”

The rest of the day had passed with me in a fairly subdued state, merely going along with what Clyde wanted to do; at one point I even found myself doing his math homework. He’s helping me tomorrow anyway so I suppose it’s fair. Sleep hadn’t come easily, but once it came it hit hard. Neither of us had woken up to his alarm. Only now as we’re pulling up in front of the school building is an overwhelming sense of foreboding beginning to build. Walking in late means I can avoid the masses of people in the hallways, it does however also mean that once I enter my classroom, all eyes will be on me. Realistically seeing as I’ve been missing a week I’d expect some stares and whispers at my return. However I currently have no idea what those whispers will consist of. I don’t know who knows what about me, and that’s fucking terrifying. Though I guess if I had to pick one for Kenny to have let slip I’d take my sexual preference over the incident with Kyle. We need Stan today, I don’t know how he’s involved, but my gut tells me he is. And his involvement sadly hangs on whether or not he currently wants to remove my head from my body. 

Clyde, feeling no such unease, pushes out of the car immediately upon pulling up, with a heavy sigh I follow suit. He chatters away presumably to me, though given that I’m not listening it’s actually to himself. I take in the odd word here and there, enough to know he’s attempting to fill me in on what I’ve missed in our shared classes. My mind is otherwise occupied, it’s only advice? Run. Fucking useful right? Every inch of me is screaming to go lock myself in a bathroom, even knowing what’s happened between Stan and Kyle in there. But logic is telling me that’s a really stupid fucking idea my first day back. Logic wins out, reminder of my new aim to avoid avoidance taking hold. Ironic right?

As expected all eyes had been on me when we’d entered, except the teachers, who to Clyde’s annoyance noticed both of us. As she’d spoken my eyes darted the room, Token is avoiding my stare, Kyle wears a small smile and a blush, the Tweek present also smiles, but he’s too calm to be mine. Finally my gaze reaches the two people it’s been searching, Kenny’s arms are crossed, the look on his eyes suggesting that beneath his Parker lays a smirk, Stan however just looks bored. There’s certainly whispers circulating, Clyde’s bed hair probably not aiding that. But in the grand scheme of things I’m simply relieved, thank fuck for that. 

By the time lunch rolled around I’d become used to the stares; indifferent to them. But as I walked outside with Clyde we are confronted by a sight I’m not sure I could ever become accustomed too: Token is sat at Wendy’s table. As a frown forms on my brow, I hear a small whine from beside me and turn my head to see Clyde’s bottom lip stuck out. Sighing I shake my head and turn to walk over to Kyle and Tweek, I hear him start to follow, his feet dragging showing his reluctance. As I sit opposite the two boys I finally let out my frustrated sigh muttering “Asshole.” Clyde choosing that moment to sit down blinks.   
“Hey!”  
My eyes roll as I nod to Token. “Not you idiot, him.” Clyde blinks following my stare before letting out another whine, pout returning as he starts to eat. Shaking my head a little I look up to find the Tweek looking confused, Kyle offers a sympathetic smile and a small sigh.   
“It sucks he’s doing this.”  
Blinking I sigh and nod before beginning to pick at my own food. Yeah it really does. I don’t want to eat; I know I have too. 

Clearly the black cloud above me is obvious. Upon his arrival I’m momentarily relieved that Kenny chooses to sit next to Kyle rather than myself. That is however until I realise the reason is that it gives him a better view of me, ever present smirk slapped on his face, he shrugs.   
“Try and cheer up Craig. Things can always get worse.”   
My eyes widen in panic, giving him what he’d wanted, before my usual icy stare trains to him. “Fuck You McCormick.”  
It’s clear from the fact he sits next to me, that Stan still has no idea, but for how long? Kenny raises an eyebrow tutting a little, smirk somehow managing to grow.   
“Oh you tease, I’m sure there’s one.. or two other people at this table you’d rather fuck. Well, have fuck you.”  
And then for the hundredth time today I feel stares on me. I’d panicked, thought it was going to come out, yet he’d thrown a curveball, and in some respects I’m even grateful it was that piece that slipped and people focused on. Figuring best to play along, despite still being kind of pissed he said that, I groan throwing my hands up, “okay I’m the fucking bottom! Can we please move on!”  
All eyes but his leave me awkwardly, my frown narrows in on him, he merely smirks and shrugs starting to eat. He’s still playing fucking games. 

Luckily my outburst left everyone other than Kenny, seemingly just as embarrassed as I am. Silence takes over the table, my eyes darting between everyone, waiting for a reaction. I hadn’t expected the Tweek at the table to be the first, though I guess to be fair, in a way at least, he also just learned something about himself. My blush darkens as his eyes meet mine, internally I facepalm, a small smirk pulling at his lips has my knees going weak. Because I know it isn’t him, but fuck, it is at the same time and damn I’ve missed that look. Kenny letting out a small chuckle as he notices us has me blushing harder than ever , my eyes snapping back to his as I kick out towards his legs under the table. All eyes move to him as he lets out a pained wail, still blushing I glance back to the Tweek and shrug mouthing ‘and now you know’.

Moment having passed, and lunch now demolished, Clyde turns his attention away from food.   
“Uhh Craig wants to ask you all something.”  
My body’s tenses as I turn to him blinking exasperated. I do? Really? Does he know me at all? I mean sure I want them to know it, but he’s the talker, always has been. Seeming to read my face he shrugs.   
“You know I’ll mess it up.”  
Fair point. Groaning I set down the remainder my food, any hope of eating it is gone now anyway, and push it towards Clyde, delighted he immediately resumes eating. Scratching at the back of my neck I take a deep breath and sigh, before beginning to explain why it is I need them. Unlike with Clyde, I manage to get away with one explanation before they’re mostly agreeing. Kenny and Tweek had been the first firm yes’. Kyle had looked momentarily panicked, until that is he’d realised we’d be at Clyde’s and his mother had no reason to deem that unacceptable. Assuming of course she doesn’t know the rest of us are there. At that point he too had readily agreed, leaving just one. Stan, who I feel could somehow be key, he looks reluctant, but I see his eyes dart to Kyle, teeth pull a little at his bottom lip as he nods slowly.   
“Okay, I’m in.”  
That went better than expected.


	35. Chapter 35

For the rest of the school day time dragged. Stuck in a state of both anticipation and panic. If things are to go well, then I could gain much needed answers. However the presence of both Stan and Kenny means things could also go disastrously wrong. At any given moment Kenny could drop a bombshell and leave destruction in his wake. These thoughts still plague me as I wait outside the front of the building. Thus far only Clyde is with me, and I’ve long since drowned out his voice. My eyes scan through the hordes of people leaving in search of the others. Instead they land on an unlikely pair, my eyebrow raises as I watch Butters Stotch leave with an all too tidy looking Eric Cartman. It’s the alternate, I know it is. It’s only in this moment I consider the fact that seeing as we’re including the alternate Tweek in this, well maybe we should have invited Cartman too. God that sounds awful; the idea of inviting any kind of Cartman anywhere. 

My line of sight is interrupted, I lose them within the other students exiting. Craning my neck a little I fight to find them again, but before I can an all too familiar voice sounds from beside me.   
“What are you doing?”  
Heat flares on my cheeks as my head snaps back around, wearing a bemused expression stands Tweek. My heart practically skips a beat, breath catching at the vision of beauty. Kenny’s laugh sounds alerting me to the fact that him and Kyle have also arrived. Feeling my cheeks growing darker still, I flip him off.   
“I think he may have been looking for you, well, the other you. Though actually if you’re single I’d be more than happy to-“  
I don’t know how he’d intended to finish that sentence, I don’t fucking care. Before the words can leave his mouth I have him pinned to the wall by his neck. “Don’t you fucking dare!”  
My words come out as a snarl, voice dark, I’m not sure I’ve ever been so fucking angry. He isn’t my Tweek, I know that, but he’s fucking off limits. Kenny’s eyes are wide as he blinks up at me, I hears gasps from behind me; Kyle and Tweek alike. Clyde on the other hand lets out a groan.   
“Man, you just got back from being suspended.”  
My grip loosens, slightly. My eyes are still narrowed to the blonde below me, I know Clyde is right, this is stupid. But it doesn’t stop the need to destroy this asshole. Mind torn I freeze, Kenny can wiggle now, but not get away; a physical manifestation of my internal struggle. Squeezing my eyes closed I take a deep breath, as the options play out in my head, my free hand balls into a fist at my side. 

Though before I can strike another voice, one laced with surprise, sounds.   
“Whoa! What the hell have I walked in on?”   
My eyes flick open to Stan, in the same moment I hear Kenny let out a small sigh of relief along with a small laugh.   
“Play nice Craig.”  
Gritting my teeth I take in the threat, I hear a small gulp from behind me that I assume comes from Kyle. Returning my stare to Kenny I let out a small growl squeezing tighter again before slamming him to the wall and reluctantly letting go, turning on my heels to walk to Clyde’s car. 

By the time we pull up at his house, Stan right behind us, my rage has eased some. Mostly due to the fact he has me cornered. If I fuck up he’ll let it slip, he’s made that clear. Fucking fantastic, now I’ve somehow found myself under the thumb of Kenny McCormick. Jesus Christ someone kill me. Somewhat defeated I push my way into Clyde’s house and drop down on the sofa. What little energy remaining in my possession needs to be focused on the upcoming task. As the rest of the guys flow into the house I sigh; not for the first time, I wonder if this shit happens in all towns or just ours. 

It would seem I’m the only one to truly see urgency in this. Clyde has led the troupe of other guys past the turning to the living room and instead through to the kitchen. Were I not to know Clyde so well I’d imagine he was offering them drinks, but I do know him. And I’d put money on them being left to fend for themselves as he gathers together what he deems a suitable amount of snacks for the occasion. It’s possible the alternate Tweek will know where things are, I’m not overly sure of his relationship with Clyde’s alter, otherwise hopefully Stan remembers from the other day. With a heavy frustration filled sigh I blink my eyes open, in so discovering that I’m not alone after all. Sat across on the second sofa, parker pulled down to give me full view of his smirk, is Kenny. Who else? With a roll of my eyes I flip him off.   
“I though I said to play nice?”  
His sing song voice grinds on me further, shaking my head I shrug, feigning indifference. “You realise you’d hurt both of them a lot more than me right now don’t you?” His smirk transforms to what appears to be a genuine smile as he chuckles.   
“True, but if you play nice we don’t have to find out. Besides the truth has a way of always coming out in the end.”   
The others begin to migrate, joining us as his words trail off, my eyes roll again. He isn’t wrong, but it isn’t his truth to tell. 

My body is unusually tense considering Tweek is sat beside me, typically by now we’d be in some way entangled. But of course those scenarios involve an entirely different Tweek. Clyde is sat the other side of him, already halfway through a bag of chips, the other three boys on the opposite sofa. Every one of us, well other than Clyde who’s oblivious, seems unsure where to begin. More than once I feel them glance to me, I suppose I did suggest this. But hell if I know what to do or say. Seeming to realise this, Kyle begins rummaging in his backpack; pulling out a notepad and pen. Raising an eyebrow I watch him open the pad and scribble something down, seeming to underline it multiple times, before taking a deep breath and sighing.   
“Well, I guess logic suggests that we should start by listing everything we know? I mean, it’s possible that we all know different things, and that somehow combining them will show a pattern?”  
Blinking impressed I chuckle a little, of course it makes sense for Kyle to take the lead; and of course he’s prepped to take notes. A louder laugh from Kenny pulls Kyle’s focus, letting mine go unnoticed. Giving me time to see that Stan is looking at Kyle in an entirely different way, I guess it’s hard to hide your feeling the whole time. Clyde’s hand hangs in the air between the bag and his mouth as he blinks and shrugs.   
“Well all I know is weird stuff has been going on since that freaky storm.”  
Kyle’s head snaps to him, eyes shining brightly as he nods before jotting it down. I blink slightly flabbergasted at my best friend. How the hell is he the one to find the start point?

After this Kyle turned to each of us in turn, taking notes on our accounts. Telling mine with five pairs of eyes watching me was god awful, but I did it. So when he turns to Stan and I see the boy go rigid, avoiding his stare, I’m fucking livid. Minutes pass as he remains silent, scratching at the back of his neck and sighing. This is fucking bullshit, why the hell did he even come if he not going to speak? I can feel a frown hardening my brow as I watch him. Yet beside him, Kyle’s face holds only concern, and he speaks first.   
“Stan? Are you okay?”  
His cheeks are tinted red at the words, words with a power which I’m all to aware of. My eyes leave Stan, landing instead on the floor as I relive the other night, the severity of my actions seems multiplied with the blonde beside me. This conversation has come to a stand still, but maybe there’s another I can have. As I hear a muttered argument begin on the other sofa, I raise my head to look at Tweek’s alternate and sigh. “Can I talk to you?” He blinks a little surprised before shrugging nodding. And in that moment it’s even more so apparent he isn’t mine, as those words would usually incite panic. Looking at me expectantly he offers a small smile, my head shakes in return. “Not here.” He’d seemed confused but hadn’t questioned it as I’d began to lead him from the room. In fact Clyde had looked more concerned than he had. Given that Stan and Kyle remain preoccupied, the only other reaction: a wolf whistle from Kenny, was simply met with my middle finger. 

The fascination coating the blonde’s face as we enter Clyde’s room would seem to answer my earlier question; suggest he isn’t friends with Clyde’s alternate. As I perch on the edge of Clyde’s bed I’m content to remain silent, watching him slowly make his way around the room, taking in every little thing. As he reaches the desk his breath catches, he stops dead in his track picking up the photo frame. Wide eyed he studies it before blushing, returning it to its spot and turning back to me. With a small smile I shrug, “that was Clyde’s last birthday, we all went paint balling. You were terrified, but you didn’t need to be, you lasted longer than him, Token and me.” His blush fades and it’d seem transfers to me instead. Shrugging a little I sigh “well not you, but you know what I mean.” Nodding slowly he makes his way over to sit beside me letting out a small sigh of his own.   
“Right. So um, why are we up here?”  
Straight to the point, damn. Dropping my head back I take a deep breath. Because I’m an asshole? Because you’re the closest person to him I can currently tell? God I don’t know. “Because.. Kyle tried to kiss me.” His eyes widen some, but he remains silent, “and I didn’t pull back. It didn’t happen! But it nearly did. And now I have to tell you, the other you. And I’m scared.”

He’d stayed silent too long, my mind had long since figured this had gone worse than I had expected by the time he speaks.   
“Wow.”  
Glad as I am to have been pulled back to the moment, that does little to help my panic. His eyes find mine before he sighs shrugging.   
“I mean, that’s shit, it really is. But, um, I think you know him better than me, am I supposed to tell you how he’ll react?”  
My cheeks burn darker still, because damn he may as well have just slapped me. He’s right I guess, just another thing I’ve done wrong. Sighing I shake my head muttering apologies. Silence resumes for a moment as I trail off. When I finally glance back to him, his stare is back upon the photo; Clyde is laying out posed on the floor with gun trained to the camera, Token kneeling behind him wearing a cheesy grin. In the back, behind them both stand my Tweek and I, arms wrapped around each other, photo forgotten as we grin at each other instead of the camera.   
“But, you guys look really happy. Maybe don’t give up just yet.”  
The small hopeful smile on his face would suggest he’s all too familiar with that concept. Just goes to prove that Craig Tucker is an idiot regardless of dimension. 

While his words had provided no answers, they had given me a reality check. Reinforced Clyde’s theory about self sabotage. If I want this I’m going to have to work for it, not sit around feeling sorry for myself. With all that needed to be say having been said, we turn to leave Clyde’s room in aim of returning to the others. Only as we open the door we find that the hallway isn’t empty. Stan has Kyle pressed to the wall, lips collided, Kyle’s arms hooked around his neck. My eyes widen a little, but really I’m not all that shocked, the Tweek beside me on the other hand lets out an audible gasp. Stan practically jumps backwards, leaving a somewhat dazed looking Kyle blinking. His face pales, mouth opening and closing as he looks over at us, then in the next instant he’s turns hurrying down the stairs mumbling ‘shit’. Kyle blinks more, pushing off the wall as he too notices us, but in the same moment the front door slams, suggesting that once again Stan has bailed. This realisation seems to hit Kyle like a ton of bricks. His entire being seems to deflate as his body leans back to the wall again, this time though it’s for support.


	36. Chapter 36

My fingers reach out like claws, gripping the doorframe. My eyes frantically dart between Tweek and Kyle; I have no fucking idea what to do. The Tweek looks completely shocked, guess this isn’t feasible in his reality. Kyle looks ready to cry, still staring after the very much gone Stan. I’m not keeping count of how many times Stan has run out on him now, but the lack of surprise his face holds suggests that he is. All I know is it’s too fucking many times. 

As my eyes dart back to Tweek I find him now looking to me, meaning he saw me staring at Kyle. Which after our conversation is just great. Heat rises through me, settling on my cheeks, but he doesn’t look worried. In fact he’s looking at me like I’ve done something stupid. He’s probably right; I’m just not sure what it is. Anxiety begins to flow through me, his eyes roll as he shakes his head. God this is backwards. Still clueless of how to move forwards, I remain blinking as Tweek takes the lead.  
“I uh, sorry about that. I’ll go downstairs, I figure you’d rather talk to Craig.”  
His words pull Kyle back to the moment, small blush coating his cheeks. My own eyes bulge, jaw dropping. What?! I’m about to protest, I can’t have explained myself properly earlier. Yet before I can he continues, the smile on his face seems genuine as he shrugs.  
“I mean, because you don’t really know me.”  
Oh. Oh right. That actually makes a lot more sense. My cheeks darken further, I can see him watching my face, smirking a little as it becomes evident I understand his meaning. This must be how it feels to be Clyde. With a shrug he turns descending the stairs, leaving me to realise that the stupid thing I had been doing, was in fact nothing. Instead I should be doing something, attempting to comfort Kyle? Again. 

Kyle had looked ready to cry, his voice suggested he was walking a tightrope over the edge; one wrong move and it’s all over. But for the first time no tears fell. It’d appear he’s become hardened to this particular hurt. I’d asked how the situation we disturbed had happened, he’d told me. Tweek and I hadn’t been the only ones to leave to talk alone. I mean how we found them didn’t look like talking to me, but I wasn’t going to argue over semantics. After a significantly shorter amount of time than I’d anticipated, he’d pushed it away, the pain which had been contorting his face; though it still sits deep in his eyes. Swallowing before letting out a deep breath he’d seemed to flip a switch in his brain along with the conversation.  
“We should get back to figuring this mess out.”  
It had been blunt, for him, it wasn’t a question. That was fine with me, we may as well return to a problem where I’m not the only person involved, as opposed to this seemingly unsuccessful mission to comfort Kyle. After all, I’m grossly unqualified for both options. Shrugging a little I’d nodded before following him down. 

As we re enter it’s clear that Tweek hasn’t given any details away, Clyde therefore is clueless, as per usual. Kenny on the other hand nods a little as he sees us; he’s probably already figured it out. Hanging my head to avoid his stare I move to sit back down quickly. Kyle on the other hand pauses, longingly staring at the door for a moment before following me through with a small sigh. Shaking his head Kenny sighs.  
“How much does he know? because I’m going after him.”  
My head snaps up in time to see Kyle’s face begin to glow.  
“Nothing! Not about that.”  
With a shrug Kenny nods, accepting it, Kyle’s relief is almost instant at the realisation. With one more nod Kenny stands, turns and without a run up somehow leaps over the sofa, then simply continues to walk towards the front door. Leaving as if nothing unordinary had occurred. 

And then there were four. Clyde, having now run out of snacks, keeps glancing longingly towards the television. More than once I throw him a glare; in so stopping him from turning it on. Kyle has been reading through his notes, desperately trying to form rational connections between them, but he can’t. I’ve realised that, the Tweek beside me has realised that, hell the spider in the corner of the damn room has probably realised that by now. But Kyle is resilient, refuses long after us to admit defeat, though I have my suspicions that even he has realised the futility of his current task. Eventually frustration catches up with him, pen slamming down against the pad as he lets out a long frustrated groan.  
“I just don’t get it. We’ve got to be missing something.”  
Nibbling softly on his bottom lip he looks momentarily thoughtful before hanging his head with a sigh. I find a small unwelcome smile pulling at my lips, because I feel the same damn way, it’s nice of him to finally catch up. Something key is clearly missing; something for a long time now I’ve connected to Stan. The expression on his face as he raises his head again would suggest that he’s come to the same conclusion. 

But where does that leave us? Stuck in a vicious fucking cycle. Running out of damn ways to try with him. Short of torture, how do you make someone tell you something they don’t want to? Surely there has to be another option? If there is I don’t have it. Running my hand down my face I take a breath, pinching the bridge of my nose I rack my brain. There has to be something; anything. A small sigh slips from the Tweek beside me, he seems unsettled; my Tweek would be taring his hair out in this situation. Fuck I hope that wherever he is, he isn’t currently doing that. But that action triggers my mind, memories from earlier in the day: the Tweek beside me isn’t the only alternate. Surely if we’re including one alternate, it would make sense to at least talk to the other. My stare travels back to Kyle as I let out a heavy breath, “there may be someone else we could talk to..” Three pairs of eyes blink at me in confusion until I regurgitate my thought process to them. It must make some sense, as they’re all nodding in agreement. Kyle chews absentmindedly on the tip of his pen as he thinks, the sound has me cringing, swishing of saliva combined with crunches of plastic, ugh gross. More wanting it to end than anything I elaborate. “He left school with Butters. We should go there.”

Kyle had slowly pulled the pen from his mouth blinking at me, the Tweek beside me looks impressed; Clyde is gawping as if I’ve grown another head.  
“You /want/ to see Cartman?”  
My eyes roll, though I’m no longer surprised by him completely missing the point, and I shake my head quickly. “God no. If that day ever comes, someone get my dads gun and just shoot me already.” Two pairs of eyes widen, I fight the threatening blush shrugging a little as I focus instead on my best friends laughter. “Besides it’s not really Cartman right?” I feel the Tweek beside me sag a little and I’m stabbed with a small pang of guilt, even though it’s true. 

Once Kyle had fully considered my proposal he was completely on board. It seems the situation has gained at least some urgency in his eyes, he seems more eager than even I to follow through with this. It may have been my idea, and yes this Cartman doesn’t seem to be a complete asshole; but he’s still a version of Cartman. I’ll never be pleased by that prospect. Butters? The boy is one of those people who never really makes an impact. He’s also one of the minority of kids in this town who’s managed to retain at least some level of childish innocence. To a lot of people, Kenny for one, this is seen as endearing. To even more people, his kindness is often used against him, twisted and contorted for their own personal gain, Cartman. To me? He’s nothing substantial, a black and white background character in a full colour film. He doesn’t stand out; hell you don’t even always remember if he’s been present for something or not. On the other hand once you do notice him, he sticks out like a sore thumb. The boy is something of a paradox. Regardless, in my life he has no real role, this means the idea of going to see him is not overly inviting; however it also isn’t the worst thing I could have to do. Shrugging I nod agreeing to go with Kyle. 

As Kyle repacks his notebook into his rucksack mumbling about being prepared, I turn my attention to Clyde and Tweek. Both look thoroughly uncomfortable, he’s not my Tweek; he simply wears his face. I’m able to read both of the expressions before me with ease: neither wants to do this. I’m sure we’re I to push this Tweek he would fold, I could come up with a hundred different threats for Clyde. Something in my gut stirs, unease? I’m not sure, I just feel were I to do so? I’d be manipulating them. Instead I puff out my cheeks and exhale deeply before shrugging down at them. “It’s fine, you don’t have too.”

Both of their faces flashed relief, quickly followed by reddening cheeks from the blonde and a ‘whoop’ of victory from my dorky best friend. By this point Kyle is swinging the rucksack onto his back and sighing.  
“Right, well we need to get going then. If I miss my curfew god knows what my mom will do.”  
I blink a little nodding quickly in response. “Right.” Because honestly I’d somehow forgotten that some kids in this town still have parents that give a damn; even if in this case they’re going about everything the wrong way. Snapping my head away from him I narrow my stare on Clyde. “Take him home okay?” Blinking he rolls his eyes groaning.  
“Man, it’s like a ten minute walk.”  
A small growl slips causing him to wince, “I don’t care. Just do it.” I’m no longer asking and he knows it. Swallowing the lump in his throat alongside his with his pride he nods.  
“Will do. Tweekers is safe with me.”  
The blonde beside him blushes further still, muttering words of thanks. With a curt nod I turn and follow Kyle from the house.


	37. Chapter 37

As Kyle as I fall into step I watch him, he’s tense; though I don’t think it’s to do with our current task. I think that, like me he’s just fucking tired of all this, I mean he also has Stan’s nonsense added in. His reaction to Kenny’s words was more severe than mine, though given that I’d already told the other two guys in the room, I knew there was little to worry about in that moment. I should probably tell him that they know. Groaning softly I realise that whilst thinking I’ve slowed down, allowed the taller boy to storm ahead. Only now does it occur to me that maybe I should’ve asked him before telling them? Oh well, too late now. Letting out a long sigh I begin walking faster to catch him, Butters house is close, if I’m going to tell him I better hurry up. 

It’d appear he too had been in his own world, not noticing I’d fallen behind until I’d returned. Blinking a little he offers a weak smile, my aim was to return it, but I’m sure what I manage to push to my face is more of a grimace. His eyebrow raises questioningly, scratching at the back of my neck I begin to slow down again, this time he follows suit. “I uh, I told Clyde’s what happened right after it happened.” He comes to a complete stop, blinking as his cheeks begin to be tainted by red. Turning to face him I too stop and sigh shrugging softly, “I stayed there that night.” He’s still blinking, blush still growing, but as he hangs his head letting a small groan slip, he nods. I suppose he can’t really argue with that one, though I’m not as sure the same can be said for the next. Deciding that like with a bandaid it’d be better to get this over with quickly, I don’t wait for his eyes to return to me before continuing. “And uh, I told Tweek today, alternate Tweek I mean.” I tail off as his head snaps up, eyes narrowing on me.   
“What?! Oh shit, we don’t even know him Craig!”  
His hands throw up in the air in frustration, not for the first time I see part of his mother shine through, though not wanting to make things worse, I neglect to tell him that part. Sighing I force hardness into my own eyes as my jaw sets and shrug. “It went fine thanks for asking.” He blinks at me opening and closing his mouth before groaning.   
“You are impossible!”  
I shrug a little; he’s not wrong. I’ve been told that my whole life. However it’s also been a long time since I’ve given a damn. Suppose that’ll happen when your father spends your entire childhood telling you how useless you are. As quickly as it had formed his anger falls, conflicting emotions flashing across his face instead; fear seems to be most prominent. 

Where to begin with he’d looked ready to continue berating me, now it’d appear he’s taken his argument to a more internal setting. His eyes dart back and forwards, seemingly in time with his thoughts, mouth hanging open a little causing him to look gormless. Chewing my lip I wait, giving him a few minutes to see if there’s more to come. But all too soon my patience for the matter is wearing thin, waving my hand in front of his face I sigh. “Earth to Kyle, come in..”  
His cheeks flush as his frown returns, arms crossing. Okay bad move, he’s pissed at me. Or himself, probably both. Given his earlier reaction to Kenny’s words it hits me, he isn’t mad they know, he’s scared Stan will find out. Well fuck. Sighing I shake my head and sigh, “you’re not planning on telling him are you?” His cheeks burn brighter still and he groans dragging his hand slowly down his face.   
“I-I don’t know! Should I? I mean really should I?”  
His eyes land on me desperately pleading for answers; for some reason Kyle’s begging tone has me uncomfortable. I mean, I think he should? Right? Though they aren’t together, and it’s quite possibly more in my favour if he doesn’t. Evidently I’m taking too long to answer, pulled back to the moment as he lets out another groan.   
“It’s not like we’re even together! God this is such a mess. I don’t even know, or want to know, how many people he’s fucked the last few months. Yet after the Bebe thing? Shit I just know he isn’t going to take this well.”  
My mouth opens more than once to speak, but my brain provides no words, so it simply shuts again. I hold none of the answers he seeks, though I wish I did to put him out of his misery. Sighing softly I resign myself to the fact that, despite this information retaining to me, in at least this capacity it isn’t my business. Or fucking Kenny’s, but you try telling him that. Whether to tell Stan what happened between us is Kyle’s choice, and his alone. 

We’d fallen back into step with each other, walking silently, before long we are approaching Butters house having not discussed what the hell we’re going to say. Great. I mean this is typical of me; I’d have expected more of Kyle. Though who am I to say he hasn’t already got it all planned out in his mind. Seeming more at ease with our surroundings than I, he moves to knock without hesitation. This makes sense considering they were somewhat friends during their childhood; the time Kenny disappeared for a while, I can’t remember why. I feel my face screw up as I try to remember, he was just gone; reappeared like nothing had happened. Weird. As Butters mother answers the door I do my best to push the expression away and force a smile on aim of matching hers.   
“Oh hello boys, are you here to see Butters? My he is popular today, come on in. Butters! Come down here!”  
Where my smile feels false, Kyle’s shines genuinely as we enter, pushing my hands into my pockets I hang slightly behind him as he makes small talk with the woman. 

Within seconds butters comes hurtling down the stairs looking panicked at first, before relaxing as he notices us. My eyes travel behind him, eyeing over the form following him, yeah that’s the Cartman from earlier. Though more relaxed butters does look confused, given that Kyle and I seem an unlikely pair to be visiting him, I can’t really blame him. Chewing his lip nervously he pushes a small smile.   
“Why, hey there fellas! What brings you here?”  
“Hi Kyle! Hi Craig! Are you here to hang out too?”  
Cartman voice holding genuine joy for my name has me simultaneously feeling like gagging and on edge; usually this means he’s up to something.

Tensing a little I glance to Kyle, catching him blinking. If he had any doubt before, I’d say this demolished it. I hear his tongue click against the roof of his mouth, he starts to nod a little. He’s about to speak when Butters father appears in the doorway to the kitchen, glass of milk in one hand, a box in the other, and a deep scowl etched in his brow.   
“You see this, Butters?! It's a glass of milk I poured for myself! And you see this?! It's Hamburger Helper! Now would you mind telling me what Hamburger Helper is doing in this glass of milk?!”  
My eyebrow raises as I blink at the man in astonishment. Kyle’s mouth snaps shut, his head also turning to the doorway. Butters eyes bulge as he shuffles nervously.   
“Oh jeeze, I- uh I have no idea sir.”  
Given that his fathers scowl only deepens I’d say that was the wrong answer. Clearing his throat he motions for Butters to follow him into the kitchen. Dragging his feet reluctantly he does; out of morbid fascination I find myself following. 

Once I’m in the doorway I can feel Kyle hovering behind me as Mr Stotch storms over to the pantry, opening the door before crossing his arms rounding on his son.   
“'ll tell you why! Our pantry is always kept organized alphabetically! But somebody put the Hamburger Helper where the Nestle Quik is supposed to go!”  
Butters is practically vibrating with anxiety by this point. My jaw is hanging open like a fly trap. What the actual fuck? This is insane. It’s in this moment that I’m reminded that whilst Butters is tolerable, his parents are a fucking nightmare, the boy is literally always grounded. Scratching at the back of his neck and gawping wide eyed up at his father the boy switches to a pleading tone.   
“Uh. I’m sorry dad, it’s just-“  
But his father doesn’t care, cutting it so fast it’s clear he wasn’t listening anyway.   
“What keeps a family together Butters?!”  
The small blonde boy flinches recoiling a little, his head hangs as he mutters.   
“A well organised pantry..”  
Really? Damn it’s that simple? I’ll have to sneak home and get organising. I’m already getting pissed with the man at this point, this is so fucking unnecessary. Like seriously, just fucking look before you pour it in the glass. Twat. 

By this point I’d thought nothing further could surprise me. I was wrong. Though clearly that was the answer he’d been looking for, he still only flips out further at the words. Butters jumps backwards horrified as his father turns, ripping items from the shelves and throwing them to the ground. This man is fucking mental.   
“That's right! If you keep putting food under the wrong letter, it all goes wrong! Now you will reorganize this entire pantry, and you will do it right!”  
His eyes are wild as he rounds on Butters. The boy simply nods a little, his cheeks are glowing and he looks close to tears. My fist balls at my side as a small growl slips, but Kyle’s hand reaches out squeezing my shoulder in response; rooting me in place. Instead with a muttered ‘excuse me’, Cartman squeezes past me and into the battlefield.   
“I’m so sorry Mr Stotch! I believe that was my fault, but don’t worry I’ll help Butters get it all fixed up.”

The man freezes, eyebrow twitching a little as he looks between his son and the strange version of Cartman. He begins nodding slowly before it speeds up and he claps his hands together.   
“Well then, I suppose I won’t have to ground him.”  
Then without another word he turns pushing past us and walks through to sit with his wife. Both of them acting as if that was perfectly normal. No wonder Butters is weird, he never stood a fucking chance with them. Butters immediately begins thanking Cartman profusely, both boys moving to begin tackling the mess. Shaking my head a little I look up over my shoulder at Kyle. His cheeks flush a little as his hand leaves my shoulder and he sighs shrugging slightly.   
“Uh, we’ll help too.”  
My eyes widen, mouth opening to protest, but he doesn’t wait, sliding past me and moving over to help them. Frown setting into my brow I groan following after him; I so didn’t fucking sign up for this.


	38. Chapter 38

Moments after he’d gone over to help, I reluctantly pushed myself after him, electing to lean against the side rather than assist. Cartman and Butters are already knelt down, picking up handfuls of food. Following Kyle’s gaze I find him studying the pantry. Oh my fucking god, wow. Just wow. Literally every segment has a label for an exact product. It’s ridiculously organised. In fact the only other person I’ve ever know to apply this much detail to something is Tweek; my Tweek. Though on him it’s adorable, on Mr Stotch it comes across more psychotic. Pulled from my thoughts by Kyle’s nodding, my head turns to watch him start helping them return products to their spots. I should probably help; I don’t care. With Tweek, it would seem that his interior matches his exterior. By organising what he physically can, he simultaneously collects his thoughts and calms down. He’d explained it fully to me once, far more eloquently than I ever could, but I got his meaning and that’s all that really matters. Fuck I miss him. Slipping my eyes closed I let out a small sigh thinking back. 

Usually when I wake up pressed against him I savour every minute. Stay as still as I can not to disturb him. Hell press more against him, study him. But last night was bad; he really fucking freaked out, all because of fucking Cartman. Sure I’d expected a fair about of homophobic comments the first day people found out about us. I hadn’t fucking expected the fatass to corner him and accuse him of checking out his lardy body in the changing rooms. Of course he’d waited until a time I wasn’t around; Cartman only picks fights he figures he can win. And with how well Tweek knows me, and in so knowing how I’d react to the information, he’d selected to try and hide the source of his anxiety from me. Of course that’s only possible for so long, I hadn’t let up and eventually it’d all tumbled out. I’m going to kill Cartman Monday. Looking at his angelic sleeping form beside me I let out a small sigh, leaning to press my lips softly to his forehead, before slowly pulling myself from him and slipping out of the bed. 

I’m not useless, however I’m certainly no chef. Sure scrambled eggs on toast is hardly a gourmet meal, but it’s the thought that counts right? Fully dressed, just in case his parents are home, I move though the kitchen selecting items without a thought, before starting to cook. It doesn’t take long for it to be ready, I’d been planning on taking him breakfast in bed, however it takes him the same amount of time to have woken and ventured downstairs in search of me. A small grunt from the doorway alerts me to his presence, head turning to offer him a grin as I continue putting items back in the cupboard. “Good morning.” A small smile pushes at lips, but his eye is twitching. With a frown I stop and walk over to cup his face, thumb stroking softly over his jaw. “What’s wrong?” Red flashes across his cheeks, eyes darting to the cupboard before back to me.  
“W-What are you doing?”  
There’s panic in his eyes, this pulls a small frown to my brow as I lean to peck his lips softly before pulling back shrugging.  
“I made breakfast, it’s just scrambled eggs.”

Blush deepening his smile widens, almost reaching his eyes. Speaking of which, they’re again trained to the open cupboard that I’ve abandoned. Okay so obviously that’s the source of his unease, but why? Raising an eyebrow I chew my lip, my concern shines through my voice. “Tweek, what is it? It’s me, you can tell me.” If much more blood rushes to his head I’m worried he’ll pass out. Shaking a little he pulls at his hair groaning softly before walking over to pull out what I’ve not long put in.  
“Ngh! They’re in the wrong place. They don’t go there!”  
Blinking a little I bite my tongue nodding a little.  
“I-I just like things being in place. I know it’s weird!”  
I’d have gone with quirky, but regardless I don’t care. He can be as weird or quirky as he likes, it makes him him; and I love him. Taking note of his system as he rearranged it, I wait for him to finish before kissing his cheek shrugging, “okay honey.” By now I can feel his skin burning beneath their touch, small smirk forming I pull back to plate up our food, setting it next to the fresh coffee already on the table. Sitting I begin to eat as he grips his coffee, practically inhaling it before beginning to explain the reasoning behind his system. 

“Gee fellas! That took a lot less time with you helping, thank you!”  
My eyes blink back open to a different kitchen, sighing heavily I look around realising that everything is back in place; time having escaped me again, I have no idea how long it took them. Kyle shrugs awkwardly muttering ‘no problem’, the Cartman grins wrapping his arm around Butters shoulder.  
“Of course! That’s what friends are for!”  
My eyes roll, even sickly sweet I can’t stand him; he makes my skin crawl. Grinning and letting out a small giggle Butters nods.  
“W-well yeah I guess it is! Oh! Kyle, Craig, did you guys wanna hang out too?”  
Fighting a second eye roll, because no I do not, my eyes instead dart to Kyle. Shrugging a little he nods in response causing Butters grin to grow further before he leads us upstairs. 

Upon reaching his room Butters actually moves to get out board games, good god, I can’t hold back the groan. His head snaps to me as he blushes a little biting down on his lip looking wounded. Rolling my eyes I sigh looking to Kyle. “You explain.” He hadn’t looked overly impressed at my demand, but neither did he fight it. With a nod and a deep breath he seamlessly begins, starting with an over detailed account of the possibility of alternate realities. I’m never the one to explain, Token when he does is precise and to the point, Clyde’s explanations are as simple as his mind. Kyle? Well he’s something else, it’s almost as if he thinks were he to miss a singular detail, the whole story would crumble. Hell he’s got his fucking notebook out. My eyebrow raises as I watch him in amusement, he’s clearly in his element, before darting my eyes to the other two boys. The Cartman figure looks thoughtful, only further proving he’s an imposter. Butters looks totally perplexed, this is all going so far over his head that Kyle may as well be speaking Russian; not that he’s noticed that. 

Already knowing the story, I zone Kyle out and focus in on the clock on the nightstand, it’s later than I’d thought. Living without time recently has been strange, in a way it’s been freeing; in another it’s been a prison. Without time there is no end to anything.  
“So that’s about everything we know..”  
Kyle’s voice cuts back in, with a yawn I sigh, deciding to put Butters out of his misery. “What Kyle’s trying to say is, that isn’t the real Cartman.” Kyle blinks blushing frowning a little, Butters’ eyes bulge in surprise before his childlike giggle cuts through the room.  
“Well sure it is! Who else would it be?”  
His usual smile is still present, but there’s uncertainty in his eyes.  
“Huh, that actually makes a lot of sense.”  
My eyes snap to the version of Cartman who is agreeing with me; it’s unsettling. Uncertainty switches out for concern as Butters literally backs away from the larger boy. Kyle is hunting through his bag for a pen as he turns to a new page in his notebook.  
“It does? Tell me how.”

The Cartman flinches a little at Kyle’s words, despite them holding no malice; he doesn’t notice so I make a mental note of it instead. Chewing on his lip before letting out a sigh as he speaks, we hear yet another take on this mess.  
“Well, my mom has been being really nice, but doesn’t seem to work as often. In fact everyone seems slightly different recently. But it mostly makes sense as a mean version of me has been making me go to school so he can stay home and eat Cheesy Poofs..”  
Kyle writes frantically, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s taken notes word for word. Butters is merely blinking in astonishment. I want to facepalm, because seriously why has he just gone with this and not told anyone? Idiot. As his hand comes to a stop, Kyle’s head snaps back up to the boy.  
“In what ways are people different?”  
Cartman blinks shrugging a little, eyes darting around the room; he looks uncomfortable.  
“Well, um, you and Stan are normally really mean.. Kenny had just brought a new car..”  
I can’t stop the snort at the thought of a Kenny with money. All eyes snap to me, holding my hands up defensively I shrug, letting him continue.  
“Craig is always crying. Butters is usually pretty out of control, I like you more.”  
He turns to smile at the blonde boy, my cheeks burn at his words, as do Butters’, though for entirely different reasons.  
“W-well I do seem to be in trouble a lot even in this reality, I don’t know why I can’t just behave myself. But I like you an awful lot too Eric!”  
I almost gag at his words, almost. Kyle jots it all down looking fascinated. 

After re reading through all of his fresh notes he clears his throat.  
“Well, the same happened to Tweek, except we only know where one of him is. We’re trying to fix it.”  
A heavy weight seems to tug at my heart, really as long as I get him back I don’t give a shit about the rest. Well except maybe whatever the hell it is going on with Stan; that has me interested. Cartman seems horrified at this idea, welling up a little he hangs his head.  
“B-But, I don’t want to go back. I like it more here.”  
“Y-Yeah please don’t make him leave guys! He’s my best friend.”  
A laughable thought really, I’m sure Butters would’ve said that regardless of which Cartman was present. A small smirk tugs at my lips, I don’t care for this boy, but he is certainly the lesser of two evils. “What if we switch them? Send the asshole to the other dimension?” Initially the glare Kyle sent my way was icy, it soon thawed as he really thought through my suggestion.  
“I mean, I wouldn’t be completely opposed to that idea.”  
My smirk only grows, making him blush shaking his head turning back to the other boys.  
“If we agree to that are you in? Will you help us?”  
They exchange glances before nodding in agreement.

Visibly relaxing, he smiled genuinely for the first time since we arrived. This however was short lived. Upon making contact with the clock his eyes bulge, jaw dropping a little.  
“Oh shit. I need to get home. If I’m late my mom will go insane.”  
Sooner than he can finish his sentence he’s standing, struggling to stuff the book back in his bag. Pushing off the windowsill I shrug sighing, “I’m leaving too.” I could have feigned a reason, one other than the fact I simply do not want to be here, but I don’t bother. Both Butters and Cartman look surprised at the sudden turn, but for the most part unbothered by our departure; neither protest. If Kyle is in anyway confused by me joining him, not that I think he is, then he’s too preoccupied to say anything about it. Brief goodbyes are exchanged before the pair of us are heading back downstairs and away from the Stotch house. 

After watching him enter his own house I push my hands into my pockets sighing and continue walking. I don’t know where I’m going, again. There’s only one place I really want to be, and I don’t know where that is; I settle on second best. It’s cold out here, he has my coat anyway. Hell maybe now I’ve spoken to him and he isn’t avoiding me, he’ll let me look for my damn phone. Though my wallet wasn’t where I’d left it, so realistically why should my phone be? Turning at the next fork it’s decided, whether my Tweek is there or not, the memories his room contains makes it more like home than any other building. 

Only once I’m approaching the door I do hesitate, biting down on my bottom lip I knock before returning my hand to my pocket. The sky above me is dark, stars shining brightly, I focus in on them as I wait. It’s been too long with no answer, I’ve almost accepted it won’t happen when the door swings open. Blinking in surprise and confusion stands Tweek, all be it the wrong one. Shrugging a little I move inside shivering a little at the heat difference. “Shit it’s cold out there.” His eyebrows have raised, stare trained to me, I can still read his face; shock, confusion and a little annoyance that I’ve let myself in. With a small chuckle I shrug a little. “You have my coat. Besides I’m pretty sure I’ve spent more time in this house than you have.”


	39. Chapter 39

His mouth opens before closing again, my Tweek would have freaked out at the statement, he’s simply realising the truth it held. As he tries to figure out what to say next, I finally look over him fully. My eyes widen, smirk pulling at my lips as I chuckle. It’s a little tight on his chest, but it looks good. Previous task abandoned, he blushes slightly raising a questioning eyebrow.  
“What?”  
Smirk growing more I shrug, “that’s my shirt.” Before turning to walk through the house; leaving him blinking in my wake. That’s a good sign, at least one thing I left here still remains. 

As I enter his room my face falls, small frown setting in; its different. Usually Tweek’s room is either meticulously clean; or it looks like a disaster zone. Seriously, I’ve walked from his door to bed without touching the floor directly before. There’s no middle ground, he doesn’t see grey; it’s all or nothing. Today however the room isn’t all that dissimilar to mine or Clyde’s, in that sure there’s a little mess, but nothing excessive. My nose scrunches a little in distaste, before I walk further in eyes more carefully scanning my surroundings. For the most part everything is in place; though I note the photo of us on his desk is face down. Before I can question this, his throat clearing from the doorway let’s me know that he’s caught up. Turning a raise my eyebrow crossing my arms. He blinks a little at me before scoffing a little rolling his eyes.   
“Make yourself at home why don’t you?”

Were this my Tweek? I’d be proud of the sarcasm oozing in his voice. This Tweek’s words hit me like bullets; this does feel like home. Were I able to have my Tweek and Stripe here with me? I’d be content to never leave. Wrapped up in our own personal bubble, it’d be bliss. I mean, I guess Clyde can visit from time to time, if he gives us notice. However, on this version of Tweek the words seem hypocritical. Eyebrow raising I shrug. “I could say the same thing to you.” My words fire at him through the air like precise arrows, hitting their target. Immediately his cheeks redden once again, mouth tensing into a firm line, eyebrows knotting in frustration as his arms fold across his chest, his defiant stance mirroring my own. Whilst we’d been amongst other people, on neutral ground, I’d believed we’d become somewhat friendly; the tension hanging in the air between us has me second guessing that. I feel uneasy, yet I’m in a place I usually feel relaxed; I’m unsure of myself, while in the company of someone who wears the face of the person I’m usually most self assure around. It’s confounding. Mental battle raging internally, my face remains blank and expressionless. Apparently he finds this infuriating, his own face hardens, a small, yet somewhat adorable, growl slipping.   
“Why the hell are you here?”

There’s a crack in my own china mask, the anger in his voice makes my face fall slightly. Because though it isn’t him, it is still his damn voice. It’s only momentary, forced away with a blink, and I’m not sure that he saw it; if he did? He didn’t react to it. Instead he pushed past me in the direction of his closet. My eyebrow raises as my eyes follow him, ah my coat. Pulling it out he turns on his heels holding it out. As his eyes meet mine, his anger drops from them, letting out a heavy sigh he walks over passing it to me.   
“There. You can go now right?”  
My stomach knots at his defeated expression, but I take it with a small sigh, hand moving to scratch at the back of my neck.   
“Right. Thanks. Um, remember the first day I spoke to you? I told you I left my phone here?” Blinking a little in surprise, he merely nods in response, I find myself following suit as I continue, “Well I really did. I mean, doesn’t my shirt prove that? I was kind of hoping to look for that too?” 

He’d agreed, and less reluctantly than I’d anticipated, but after searching high and low and coming up empty, other than my jeans; I’m beyond frustrated. Hell I even tried calling it off of this Tweek’s phone only to be met by the robotic monotone of my voicemail. Sitting on the edge of the bed I groan, dropping backwards to lay down, squeezing my eyes closed with a heavy sigh. I can feel his stare burning holes into me, probably annoyance towards me being on ‘his’ bed. Fuck it, this bed holds far more memories for me than him. One in particular pulls to focus. 

Two weeks ago when I first kissed him, if you’d asked me? I’d have said that nothing could possibly feel better. The combination of Tweek Tweak, the stars, and the fact that we were literally connected was addictively intoxicating. Of course given that thus far the only people aware of the change in our relationship are Token and Clyde, this addiction eats away at me in public. But when we’re alone I can give into it completely. Now here laying on his bed, limbs entangled as mouths collide, well, I can tell you that the location doesn’t matter; he’s the factor that matter, as long as I’m with him I’m deliriously happy. 

Changes to our actions towards each other are fast becoming second nature. Light touches are lingering longer. It’s only a matter of time till one of us slips in public and people will know. I’m not one for over the top public displays of attention, but more than once already I’ve had to stop myself from reaching for his hand. I don’t want people to just find out, I want some level of control over it. Despite this, as of yet neither of us have discussed the idea of coming out. Clyde and Token’s reactions, should you be able to call them that, I feel have done little to prepare us. I’ve heard how my father speaks, I know he won’t like this. But to tell Tweek that would solve nothing and make him share in my worry, so I won’t. I’ll figure it out somehow. 

He tares me from any coherent thought as his breath buzzes again my skin before his hot lips press lightly to my neck. I don’t need to worry right now, screw everyone else, I can’t focus on anything bar him anyway. A small moan slips my lips, hand reaching to cup his jaw and pull his lips to meet mine instead. His small gasp against them has me shiver as my tongue darts to take advantage of his newly open mouth. The abrupt action takes him by surprise, louder gasp sounding before his teeth nip at my tongue. His weight presses down more against me, a louder moan escapes me masking the sound of his bedroom door opening. 

The gasp pulls us from the moment, eyes widening as our heads snap to see his mother in the doorway. Suddenly my mouth goes dry, Tweek sits up rigid beside me, panic flaring in his eyes as he start to shake, a high pitched squeal radiating from him. But it’s unnecessary, though her face clearly shows surprise, that’s all; I see no anger in her eyes. Tweek is still frozen in place, body vibrating as his hands push into his hair, pulling at it.   
“Agh! Mom! I-I..”  
His cheeks are on fire as he trails off. She’s still just staring. Biting down on my bottom lip I pull at it a little as I too sit up, taking a deep breath. I need to speak; I don’t know what to say. Anything Craig, say fucking anything. “I uhh, sorry.” Smooth Craig, really smooth. Internally I facepalm, but she shrugs in response pushing a smile. Maybe I didn’t screw up so bad?  
“Well, would you boys like any coffee?”

Familiar weight settles on the bed next to me, reminding me of my actual current situation. Deep groan falling I blink my eyes open and sit up to look to him. “So, what’s it like having no parents around?” Surprise flashes over his face, which makes sense considering to him that came out of nowhere I suppose. Brow furrowing for a minute he looks thoughtful before shrugging.   
“Well, it’s nice being able to drink coffee.”  
I blink slowly opening and closing my mouth before bursting out laughing. By the time I trail off, wiping my eyes, I find him looking at me as if I’m insane, he’s probably right; regardless I offer no explanation. 

He must decide it’s safer to not push further, as with a shake of his head he changes the subject.   
“Uh, Clyde says you’ve been staying at his, why?”  
My face falls as my eyes roll, that mother fucker! Every damn time, though by this point I must be at least partially to blame. I need to stop telling him stuff. Turning my head to look out of the window, as I’m not sure I could hold his gaze if I wanted to, I let out a pained sigh before explain what happened on the last night I spent with my Tweek. His embarrassment at my answer was still clear once I finally turned to look at him, somehow this only adds to my own. Awkward silence is eventually broken with an offer from him for me to stay here. My breath catches, body tensing as I fully consider it. Hell it is the most tempting offer I’ve had. But he isn’t my Tweek, and being here without him too long will leave the house hollow rather than a home, so with a heavy heart I decline.


	40. Chapter 40

Though he’d tried, he hadn’t managed to fully hide either his surprise or disappointment at my response. A small flash of guilt makes its way through me, leaving a sour taste in my mouth. I’d love to stay here, but I can’t. It’d taint everything. Heavy sigh echoing around the room I push to stand, finally pulling on my coat, inhaling deeply I’m forced to hold back a moan because it smells like him. Forcing a small smile I turn to him shrugging. “Uh, so see you at school I guess?” An equally insincere smile crosses his face as he nods in response, also pushing to stand.   
“Yeah, I’ll walk you out.”  
I turn with a shrug to walk out of the room, aiming for nonchalant; mostly hoping to hide the burning taking over my face. Apparently some things are the same in both realities. 

My hands push into my pockets as I take a deep breath of the cold night air, nodding to him from the end of the driveway as he waves, waiting for him to close the door before starting to walk away. Leaving fucking sucks, but it leaves the homely feel preserved, the only other place I can get that is with Stripe. My actual home is nearby, getting closer with every footstep. That’s where I’m going, not that I actually decided to, more it’s a muscle memory response: when I leave Tweek’s at night that’s where I go. Swallowing as I turn into my street I slow down. Most houses are already dark, I’m sure I could climb in undetected again, right? Hanging my head I let out a heavy groan, dragging my feet. Because it shouldn’t be this fucking hard. 

Of course things only complicate further once I’m outside my house, shining like the North fucking star, the living room light is still on. Breath hitching I bite down hard on my lip as I edge towards the window to peep inside. Upon the sofa, bottle of whiskey in hand sits my father. The hairs on my skin stand on end, gasp escaping as I pull away from the glass sharply. Panic racing through me, eyes wide as my brain screams at me to run. I’m not going home tonight; I can’t. I do practically run as I turn to leave, unable to get away fast enough. The memories invading my mind are far less pleasant than earlier’s. Yet they’re loud, volatile and relentless. 

Since the previous day when his parents found out I’ve been restless, only semi in the moment. School had been a complete blur, even Clyde commented on me seeming distracted. Because of course I am. His parents were so sweet, welcoming even. Should they have even a hint of disappointment between them, they hid it well. I crave such a reaction; I also know that I’m shit out of luck on that idea. The more I get to know his parents, the more I can understand how someone as perfect as him came to be; each of their good qualities shine through him, accompanied by even more which are individual to him alone. My parents on the other hand? My mom is a walk over and a coward, my dad is an asshole. I guess between them it’s hardly surprising how much of a screw up I am. 

Tweek has allowed me to remain brooding and silent for the most of the walk back to mine, however as we turn onto my street he twitches a little grunting beside me.   
“Uhh, should we let go?”  
I follow his gaze to our entangled hands, my stomach dropping at the prospect. Part of me thinks ‘yes’, but it isn’t the response I give. With a shake of my head I pull his hand up to kiss, giving him a small smile before continuing to walk. We didn’t hide it at school; his parents and every adult that’s seen us holding hands know or at least speculate. Meaning whether I tell them or not, someone will soon enough, it should be me. Despite my near certainty of a less than pleasant reaction from my father I’m doing this, now or never right? Well, a couple of hours from now, my mom may be home but he won’t yet. And honestly, if I have to tell one of them? She’s the better option. 

As I push my keys into the lock I squeeze Tweek’s hand, he’s twitching more now, letting me know that I’m not the only one who’s nervous. He needn’t be, even should my mother disapprove, she’s not confrontational. And I don’t plan on telling my father whilst he’s here. Hell if I could I’d let him know without having to be here myself. Pausing I turn to face him, free hand stroking his cheek. “Are you okay?” The only noise in response is a squeak as he nods furiously, though the uncertainty in his eyes would suggest otherwise. Leaning to kiss him softly I nod and turn the key, because though nervous he isn’t weak. I trust him to tell me if he can’t handle something. 

As we enter my eyes dart around, Ruby is watching TV; oblivious to our entrance. My eyes roll a little at the kids show, before moving to lock with my mothers. Stood in the doorway to the kitchen, her eyes are wide trained to the pair of us, mouth hanging slightly agape. Tweek lets out a small strangled gulp from beside me. Squeezing his hand again I take a breath, working to feign confidence as I keep my eyes trained to hers. “Mom, um, Tweek and I..” my cheeks defy me starting to burn as I finally look down. She knows, I saw it in her eyes, but that isn’t the point. I don’t need to say this for her, I need to for us. “Tweek is my boyfriend.” Blush still coating my cheeks I fight to keep my eyes hard as look back to her. But I don’t feel solid, I feel ready to tumble should her reaction be terrible. 

Tweek’s twitching is almost out of control, silence filling the room bar the garish voices the TV is emitting. My mom looks sad, I’d been prepared for angry; for not the first time I’m reminded that disappointing a parent can hurt just as much, if not more than, angering them. I feel the hardness leaving my eyes, defeated. Her fingers push through her hair as her head hangs. My throat is dry, I want to cry. This time it’s Tweek squeezing my hand, and thank fuck because it’s at least some reassurance that I’m not alone. The gap between us is removed as I lean into him, taking further advantage of his support. 

When her eyes finally return to mine the sadness is still present, but as she speaks things become less clear as to why.   
“I thought so.”  
Guess I’m not as discrete as I believe myself to be.   
“Craig, I’ll love you forever, no matter what.”  
A breath I’d been unaware I was holding falls, as relief rushes through me, maybe this will be okay? The small smile pulling at my lips is banished before it fully forms as she speaks again.   
“But, your father won’t take this well.”  
Her voice is shaking by the time she trails off. All I’ve achieved is making her as terrified as I am. My head hangs, I’d expected things to go badly, but for now things have only begun. 

She’d tried to reassure me, told me that she’d tell him later. I’d tried to protest, but it soon became clear that it hadn’t been a suggestion, I’m not even allowed to control my own coming out. For fuck sake. Stress is crushing me as I drop onto my bed letting out a long loud groan before burring my face in the pillow; willing it to suck me in. His weigh rests beside me, arm reaching out to pull me against him. With my head pressing to his chest instead, suddenly I’m more than happy to be right here in the moment. Forget what happens later, no doubt I’ll have the rest of my life for that to affect me. For now I have him; and that’s more that enough. 

Two hours had passed in a flash of us holding each other and sharing kisses. Luckily my mother hadn’t Interrupted as his had the day previously. Instead not long before my father is due home she knocks on the door, waiting for a response before letting us know through the door that Tweek should probably be getting home before my dad does. I’d agreed and walked him out, not hesitating to kiss him before he left. Though now as I sit on the couch, mother and sister beside me waiting for dad to return. Again I find myself wishing I could disappear. 

Anxiety running high, I can almost hear my heartbeat in my ears as he enters. I’d been expecting an immediate reaction, that my mother would tell him instantly. But with her lips pressed tightly shut she serves dinner and I’m forced to join them in acting out happy families. As we eat I see my father finish two beers, the longer she leaves this, the worse it’ll be. For the first time I can see myself becoming his punchbag instead of her. Once the meal comes to an end she instructs my sister and I to go to our rooms to do homework, Ruby of course slips away happy enough. I freeze a little, eyebrow raising questioningly. But she cuts my words off with a stare. Noticing this brings my father to life.   
“Listen to your mother boy! Get.”  
Frown deepening I push up from the chair with a grumble and turn to walk upstairs. I should have some say in this; clearly I don’t. 

For a while later I remain trapped in limbo, though the televisions volume has increased, and I can hear my fathers further sluring voice echo now and then. The lack of screaming and chaos lets me know that so far she hadn’t said anything. My eyes remain glued to the clock as I wait, by the time an hour has passed I’m ready to pull out my hair. 

Only twelve minutes later the show begins. Colour drains from my face as the shouting starts. Pulling my knees to my chest I squeeze my eyes closed as I hug them. My mother’s tone is desperate, my fathers is demonic. Mere minutes later my bedroom door opens, a small sob sounds from my doorway before it shuts again and Ruby runs over to climb onto the bed beside me. As I pull my head back to look at her I take in the all to familiar tumbling tears as I wrap an arm around her. Every time they do this she comes here, usually I’d do my best to comfort her, tell her that it doesn’t have anything to do with us. After all kids are seldom responsible for their parents problems. But this time I can’t, this is all on me. ‘Fag’ cuts through the air laced with spite more than once, making me flinch. I figured Cartman would be the first to say it, not my dad. By this point he is so loud I can hear every word as if he was saying them directly to me. My eyes are stinging a long time before the tears start dripping, Ruby shakes a little under my arm. She may not understand the words being said, but she is fully aware of the malice they hold. The argument ends seemingly as quickly as it began, a smash suggesting he’s thrown a bottle sounds before words pierce the air, taring through me.   
“I have no son!”

My legs burn by the time I reach Clyde’s. Though I imagine I could do so without any arguments, I can’t realistically keep this up. I can’t live here, but I can’t think anymore tonight. It’s been a long ass and emotionally heavy day. As always he looks pleased to see me, yet as I step inside pulling him into a hug I feel him tense. It makes sense. Craig Tucker doesn’t do this, but I needed too. I’m always ready to give Tweek complete credit, and for the most part it’s earned. But the boy before me? Fuck blood, he’s family. He blinks unspeaking for a moment watching me. Face on fire I choose to ignore it, instead turning to walk upstairs to his room, dropping back in the bed as my head spins. 

As he enters finally voicing a question to my action, my body sags as fears flash through my mind. The fear that my Tweek really is gone forever, there’s no guarantee we can fix this. More terrifying than that, he’ll return, yet I’ll lose him anyway. Though if that’s what’s best for him I’d accept it, I’d have too. These fears live in the forefront of my mind; are ever present. Yet another runs just as deeply, hidden in the shadows of my brain. I’ve always been aware that this fear is what has been keeping me from my home, I’ve simply refused to acknowledge the fact. But it is a fact, and I have no idea what to do about it. I want to tell him, ask for advice, but his face is contorting, scratching at the back of his neck, he instead is the one to speak.   
“Uhhh Craig? I’ve been thinking.”  
Snapped from my own thoughts I focus on him, Clyde thinking? That’s a dangerous concept. But his face is already flushed, he looks uncomfortable. Usually its somewhat of a speciality of mine to push this further. However I do have a line, and apparently seeing the pain in his eyes is where said line sits. Biting my tongue I nod a little, giving him reassurance to continue.   
“It’s about what you said, to me and Stan.”  
My eyebrow raises as I struggle to remember what that was, but I come up blank. Seeming to read this from my face he sighs softly.   
“You said that if I don’t tell Bebe that I like her, then I don’t get the right to complain if someone else does.”  
Blinking a little I nod more as the memory come back to me.   
“You were right.”  
His cheeks are burning now, eyes refusing to look at me. He hates telling me that, that I’m right. Usually to be fair that is justified. But something this time is making me uneasy. A pang of guilt tugs at me, he shouldn’t feel like this about trying to talk to me. I’m supposed to be his best friend; I really am an asshole. “Oh?” His eyes snap back to mine, surprise shining through them. 

For a moment he’d simply blinked at me, seemingly stunned. More guilt builds, and this time it’s me who cannot hold his gaze. As my stare leaves him he gains confidence.   
“Its just like, I want to tell her how I feel. But, I don’t know how. And I’m fucking terrified, what if she laughs at me or something? Help me?”  
Forcing my eyes to meet his again guilt completely takes over as I see his own basically begging for help. Not that I’m entirely sure how much help I could really me. I’m not good at this; not by a long stretch. Everyday I count myself lucky that someone like me was able to make Tweek fall in love with me. And simultaneously have no fucking idea how I managed it. I could tell him this, it’d reassure him he isn’t alone right? But something is telling me that isn’t what he currently needs, only I can’t figure out what it is that he does. Unsure that I have anything to offer it’d be all to easy to shut this down before it gets started. But this is Clyde, the guy who is there for me no matter what, has my back at all times; even those he probably shouldn’t. Instinct is fighting me, I don’t want to do this, but I should; and I am. Because I care about him, he matters. Matters more than I often let on, I care about the ass a lot, he knows it, I’m sure he does. Taking a deep breath I shrug a little. “What do you need?”

His entire face lights up like a kid on Christmas at my words, in a goofy way he looks adorable. I hold back the eye roll letting a small sigh slip. In the next instant he drops down beside me on the bed, sitting cross legged, chewing at his lip.   
“I don’t actually know, I just thought that maybe I could ask her to the school dance or something? But like in a different way, one to make it stand out?”  
The hope shining in his eyes has my stomach knot, though my face remains neutral. That’s a big way of doing it, I feel it’d be easier to just ask her on a date and go from there. Less damage should it backfire. But as I know from the years of his talking about his love, without willingness to follow through. Never having even tried to let her know how he feels, not even mentioned the idea. This is huge for him. Token and I had long accepted, and in turn lost patience with, the fact that he was never going to tell her. There’s only so long we’d been able to listen to the same things knowing nothing would change. This time is different, he’s actually talking about doing something and that’s never happened. I consider the possible fall out that could occur should this fail, I can also see the pure joy he’ll be filled with should it work. Now fairly sure all he needs is support, something that he shouldn’t have to be asking for, I ignore my inner struggle and push a smile. “That could work.”


	41. Chapter 41

My jaw had tensed as he’d began to explain his plan, by which I mean announcing that he has one and immediately moving from the bed and over to his wardrobe. My eyebrows knot, curiosity chipping its way through my unease to the forefront of my mind as I watch him. Seconds later, as he turns around my eyes bulge a little, swapping out curiosity for confusion. I’m one hand is a Barbie doll, the other holds her counter part; a Ken doll. My eyes leave them to search his face for clues, instead they simply find a blush and small pride filled smile. Clicking my tongue against the roof of my mouth, in aims of remaining silent, I let out a slow breath returning my eyes to the dolls as he moves closer. This time I really look at them, and as I take in their outfits the confusion is gone; that’s just fucking creepy. The male doll is wearing clothes which resemble Clyde’s usual wardrobe, the female is sporting Bebe’s style. What the actual fuck?

It’s taking more will power than I knew I had to keep my mouth shut. Whether he realises this or not is unclear, but he clearly appreciates it. Though his cheeks are still glowing his grin has grown. Making his way back to again sit on the bed he sets them down before me.   
“Pretty cool right?”  
Cool? Uhhh, of all the words I’d use to describe this? No, cool doesn’t make the list. Sucking in my cheeks I bite down on the insides hard enough to taste blood, closing my eyes I count to ten before letting out a deep sigh. “What even? And how?” His cheeks receive a fresh flash of red, face falling a little as he shrugs. I’ve said the wrong thing again clearly, but I honestly don’t know what he expected when presenting them without context. Scratching at the back of his neck he shrugs a little.   
“Uh, well they’re Kenny’s sisters. He helped me come up with this plan and made the outfits.”  
Blinking slowly I nod a little. So that’s the how. Figures it was Kenny, he’s been making clothes since he was a kid. Started when he decided to be a princess in our childhood fantasy game. Then he soon learned that he just liked wearing women’s clothes from time to time, and seeing as his parents wouldn’t buy him them, he improvised. But I’m still not understanding what the actual ‘plan’ is. On another note, Kenny might be an ass, but these outfits are pretty impressive; bitch can sew. 

Goofy smile in place, though less sure of itself than normal, his gaze doesn’t leave me. Anticipation shines through his eyes, suggesting he’s waiting for a response. But I feel like I’m missing something, “what is the plan?” It’s only as I notice him blinking I realise I’ve said it out loud, and he in return realises the flaw in his attempted explanation.   
“Ohh, right! Well I put them in her locker with like a note that says ‘go to the school dance with me?’, and uh well then I talk to her on her way there, then ask her when she sees them.”  
His face is now on fire. I replay the words over in my head. It’s not my style, nor the type of way I’d like to be asked myself. But this isn’t about me; for them it makes sense. I actually think Bebe would appreciate the effort. I find myself nodding in agreement before the unease seeps in as I notice his grin curl a little. He’s told me his plan, he has everything prepared, yet he asked for my help. My brow knits as I think before tensing with a small groan, pinching at the bridge of my nose. “How are you getting into her locker?”

Suddenly his grin is sheepish, bottom lip protruding a little as he bats his eyelashes at me.   
“Craaaaaig?”  
My stomach drops as I groan; suspicion confirmed. Of course. Though I’m fairly certain that Kenny would also know how, I’m all to aware that of Clyde’s friends? I’m the only person Clyde knows who can pick a lock. Somehow my part in this has me also returning to our fantasy game days; Craig the thief, expert lock picker. Fantastic. Gritting my teeth I groan softly, his eyes are shining bright and hopeful. I’m sure I’ll regret it later, but I still agree. This of course results in him bouncing across the bed to wrap his arms around me, squeezing. But my body doesn’t tense this time, no, instead it relaxes into his embrace. Heat sparks across my cheeks, what the hell is wrong with me?

He’d chattered on about what he plans to say to her, I tuned him out. Instead trying to figure out when the hell is the best time for me to break into a damn locker without getting caught. Usually, should my mind be set to something, that doesn’t overly matter. However should I get caught? I’d put money on that leading to my parents getting called in again; and what are the odds I’ll get away from him twice. With a heavy sigh I abandon my mission, I work better when improvising anyway. Clyde, finally seeming to have run out of things to say, relaxes back laying on the bed smiling.   
“Thanks Craig.”  
My teeth nip sharply at my bottom lip, pulling a little as I nod pushing a smile of my own. Body still tense I lay beside him, stretching out in an attempt to relax. I’d arrived here with so much I’d wanted to say, and it’s still there, but not tonight. Tonight holds his personal victory, I’ll let it remain simply the night he finally decided to make a move. Besides, it’d be really shitty of me to rain on his parade, weigh down his obvious good mood with my own personal demons. If anyone is good at pushing their feelings away and ignoring them, it’s me. 

I’d have been content to remain in silence, but Clyde rarely lets this happen. Since unloading the thoughts which have clearly been weighing on him, his entire aura seems lighter. My mind reaches back into its depths in an attempt to locate the first time this weight had been present, looming over him. Coming up empty I sigh softly, hopefully it doesn’t return. Clyde looks thoughtful as he sits up, which makes me nervous, before he speaks again.   
“Oh! What happened with the not-Cartman?”  
Relaxing a little as I blink up at him, I shrug. “Well, Butters dad is a fucking basket case, but in the end it went well. They’re gonna help, uhh under one condition. We switch Cartman’s.”  
Clyde’s eyes had crossed slightly before narrowing as he attempts to make sense of my words. It’s fairly comical really. As seconds tick by from the clock on the wall, my eyebrow raises as I watch him with a smirk, chuckle tumbling as his eyes light up to signal he’s gotten it. 

Once he understood, his brow then creased slightly with concentration, now attempting to decipher his stance on that. It doesn’t take long for him to be at peace with the concept; see Cartman, that’s what you get for being a giant fucking twat waffle. Meeting my eyes again he nods a little, a slightly sour edge to his voice as he shrugs.   
“Okay, at least they’re both fat.”  
Drawing in a long breath I clench my jaw, eyes squeezing closed as I swallow the forming laugh. A childhood memory of Cartman being put away for a hate crime comes into focus, it’s a shame he ever got out really. Anyway, at the same time as his absence, there had been a sled race, guys vs girls. Kyle being the most logical had come to the conclusion that weight was the varying factor in finding the fatass’ replacement. Clyde was nominated, he was only the ‘fat kid’ for about a week, but he’s never forgiven us. Should this plan have involved him having to relive it? Well I’m not sure I’d even have been able to bring myself to ask. Composure returning I let out the breath and blink my eyes back open, offering him a smile as I nod. He’s in. From that point on the evening took a lighter turn, idle chatter and music from his phone filled his room until we were both ready to sleep. 

Before we had even left for school, Clyde had checked my backpack four times to ensure that the dolls and note were present. Once we’d arrived he’d insisted on looking again. However, as the day has passed and we’ve separated for classes, I’ve not needed to check. The unfamiliar weight added sits heavily in my bag, weighing me down. The items aren’t actually heavy, but what they symbolise is. If this goes wrong.. fuck I don’t even want to think about that. I know if Tweek had rejected me I’d have lost my damn shit, and he’s liked Bebe longer than I’ve even realised that I like guys. Each room in this damn building contains a clock, making time unavoidable. As time counts down, school day running out: lunch is approaching now, the pressure mounts. Raising my hand I feign a need for the bathroom before excusing myself from my class, luckily no one questions my need for my backpack. 

Taking the bathroom pass I slip the room and make my way through the corridors to the area Clyde had shown me earlier, checking the back of my hand for the locker number. As I stand before it I look over the bathroom pass again with a sigh, I doubt it’ll be much use if I’m caught, I’m hardly using the bathroom. My eyes scan both ends of the hallway, I’m alone. However in doing so I realise that although all the classrooms have clocks, Bebe’s locker is located in a piece of hallway which doesn’t contain one. Wonderful. I had twenty minutes when I left the classroom, let’s get started. 

The clock reads two minutes before lunch period begins when I get back to class. I was gone ages, people probably think I have the shits, but fuck it. My backpack is noticeably lighter and my part in Clyde’s plan was successful; I only hope his follows suit. As I retake my seat my hand subconsciously reaches into my pocket for my phone, in aims of letting him know that it’s done. But I’m confronted with reality, I still don’t actually know where that is. Maybe it’s with my Tweek?

As the lunch bell sounds I begin my walk to the usual spot, all to aware that at this same moment Clyde and Bebe will be leaving the their shared classroom, and hopefully towards her locker. There’s nothing more I can do for that now. But what I can do is regroup with everyone else, focus back in on other issues. Dropping down next to Tweek I nod across to Kyle and Kenny. In the distance I can also see Butters and Cartman approaching, judging from Butters at ease stance I’d guess it’s the Cartman I’m hoping for. So far so good. Waiting for them to arrive I let my eyes scan the area, predictably Token is sat with Wendy, however I also note that they’re not at their usual table. Sure they’ve been joined by a few of their usual group, but. It all of them. It’d appear that my friendship group is not the only which is fractured. 

As Butters and Cartman take their seats, Butters is the one to notice that people are missing. First he questions Clyde’s absence, which Kenny is only too happy to explain. Hope Clyde’s cool with that. But he then points out that Stan is also missing. These words have a profound affect of Kyle. His hand tightens it’s grip on his fork as his cheeks burn, head hanging.   
“He’s a fucking asshole. And he’s not at school.”  
Five pairs of blinking eyes land on him, with a small sigh I shake my head. By this point that’s predictable, but at least it lets me know where I’m going after school. I also wonder if this is the fall out from their interrupted kiss last night, or if something further has since occurred. I’m curious, but not curious enough to question Kyle on it so publicly. I’m sure if he wants me to know, he will at some point tell me. 

Butters and Cartman both look shocked at the outburst, Kenny not so much, hell maybe he already knows. The Tweek beside me seems more indifferent to Kyle’s outburst than I’d have expected of mine, but he isn’t mine so that’s hardly surprising either. Silence falls as the boys begin to eat, I allow my eyes to roam again, searching for Clyde. Kyle’s fork clatters angrily against the plate as he begins eating again, Kenny clucks his tongue watching him before sighing.   
“Well that fucking sucks. I still want to know about those weird ass holes.”  
Raising an eyebrow I look to him nodding, him and I both. His eyes meet mine as he shrugs.  
“They do look like graves.”  
It’s true, I’ve said it a while now. But it’s reassuring to hear someone else voice it. Reassuring for me anyway, Kyle’s form only tenses more. 

The Tweek beside me seems to suddenly come to life turning to Cartman, concentration coating his face.   
“So you’re the Cartman from my world?”  
He gets a nod and a smile in return, my eyes leave Kyle to watch them instead, intrigued as to where he’s going with this. Tweek’s fingers push through his hair with a sigh.   
“But the other Cartman is also in this reality?”  
Another nod in response.   
“Then what I don’t understand, is why there are two of you here, but only one of me.”  
A small groan of agreement slips my lips at the words, I’m guessing it’s simply because the universe is cruel? But as the two boys thoughts combine in my mind, my blood runs cold. The holes do look like graves, and Tweek is missing. What if they’re connected? My heart speeds up, pounding against my chest as my head screams. “NO!” My knuckles are white gripping the table, the thought is spinning in my head; I’m unable to banish it. It takes me a moment to realise the silence has returned and now everyone is looking at me. Fuck I said that out loud too. Paled cheeks begin burning as I struggle in attempt to come up with a plausible rational explanation. I’m saved by the arrival of my beaming best friend bouncing over. Clyde, unaware of what’s just happened, and locked in a bubble of personal bliss, looks elated as he takes a seat.   
“She said yes!”


	42. Chapter 42

Clyde’s sudden arrival served to distract everyone from the fact that I’m on my feet in the same instance that he sits. Curious eyes are trained now instead to my best friend. Well, almost everyone: Kenny’s eyes are still glued to me, as if feasting on my torment. My body is trembling a little, hands balled tightly at my side, my mind is going haywire. In this moment, knowing theirs a possibility that I’m chasing a ghost? I fully understand terror in its purest form. Having long suspected a connection between the situation we’ve been sucked into, and whatever the mystery surrounding Stan is. It seems ludicrous that I’d overlooked this possibility. Yet if it’s true, then what? There’s not a damn fucking thing I can do, that’s what. I’ll be condemned to live feeling half alive, forever wishing that our fates could have been switched. Fuck the rest of school, I’m seeing Stan now, and one way or another he’s going to fucking speak this time. 

As I take my first step away from the table, Kenny too is on his feet, and all eyes have returned to me. Clyde’s voice is laced with confusion.  
“I’ve missed something haven’t I?”  
Ignoring him I force my hands into my pockets starting to walk away, till that is Kenny’s voice sounds, aimed at me.  
“No what Craig? Where are you going?”  
Pausing in place I take a deep breath, not trusting myself to explain without becoming an emotional mess, I chose only to answer the latter question. “Stan’s.” His lack of immediate response tells me that he wasn’t expecting that. Kyle lets out a huff of annoyance upon hearing his name before trying to speak rationally to me.  
“School isn’t over. Just wait a couple of hours.”  
Unfortunately for him, in my current mind frame, rationality doesn’t exist. All that fucking matters right now is answers, answers which only Stan can give. My head shakes a little as I mumble “I don’t care”, before continuing to walk away. 

It isn’t till I’m passing the locker I broke into earlier that I’m even aware of the light footsteps following me. Keeping my stare forwards and picking up pace I let a small growl slip. “What?” His giggle pierces the air, volume growing as he catches up, now skipping beside me.  
“I’m coming too.”  
I can feel his toothy grin burning into the side of my head, but still I don’t turn to look at him. Why Kenny intends to follow me, or thinks I’d want him to come, is beyond me. But to argue with him would waste time. Something I suddenly feel that I’ve been doing since the start; I’d convinced myself I was giving Stan time, allowing him to open up at his own pace. Was I really just avoiding this possibility? I don’t know anymore. Shrugging as we step out of the school building I resign myself to the fact I’ll be doing this with Kenny tagging along. 

The pace my legs are carrying me is akin to the racing thoughts in my mind. So far several of us have attempted to break down Stan’s walls and get him to speak. Yet each time has been unsuccessful; I’m done asking nicely. Kenny’s breathing is heavy as he fights to keep up, as of yet I haven’t voiced my fear. It’s almost as if saying it out loud would make it more real, and until I know for certain I can’t accept that. A part of me suspects that Kenny has made the connection himself anyway, he usually does. Sure he’d shown interest in the holes earlier, but I doubt he’s following me just on the off chance of gaining answers. No, Kenny doesn’t need company for that, he would probably have more luck going in alone anyway. Whether or not he has worked out my exact thoughts is unclear, but obviously he views my actions as at least interesting. Were I not already in such a state of panic I’m sure his presence would irritate the hell out of me, especially considering the length of the walk. But as it is I no longer have the capacity available to muster annoyance. 

There’s fresh holes. Whatever the fuck this is hasn’t stopped. If they are graves that means there’s three new bodies. Three more people who’ve met some kind of grizzly demise. My jaw clenches, hairs on my arms standing on end, pace finally slowing. Kenny is panting beside me, I’d imagine that his breathlessness is the only thing stopping him from speaking. He doesn’t need too, bright sparks of surprise shoot through his eyes as they too notice the fresh mounds of dirt. Swallowing I turn my head to glance around, there’s no one to be seen and it’s eerily quiet. After double, then triple checking, I look back to the ‘graves’, pain rips through me as disturbing, distorted images of my Tweek beneath the earth flash though my mind. Arms wrapping around myself, my nails dig into my skin, light at first then harder and harder. Physical pain would be a welcome relief right now. 

I’m not sure how long I’ve been rooted in spot staring, it isn’t until one silent tear drops that Kenny pulls me back to the moment. Shaking his head he tares his eyes away and begins walking towards Stan’s barn. As I raise my hand to wipe the solitary tear I take a deep breath before following him. When I’d set off I’d been determined and angry, now I find myself unsure and terrified. Though my task hasn’t changed: I’m still here for answers, I no longer actually want them. Sure I need them, but it’s also possible that said answers could rip apart my whole world. As per usual I’m unprepared, have run in head first without a plan, I really should try to work on that. Moreover my accomplice seems to hold no such fears and is suddenly the one storming ahead, he doesn’t even knock before entering, leaving the door open wide for me. 

As I step inside my face punches in disgust as I step over cams and bottle which littler the floor. Stan immediately pushes to stand, staggering slightly as he approaches us slurring.  
“What the hell are you two doing here?”  
Oh fucking fantastic, it’s not even evening and he’s drunk. Kenny’s tongue clicks from beside me as he shakes his head.  
“What the fuck Stan? You look terrible. Ever heard of a shower?”  
Stan grumbles flipping him off before moving to open a fresh can of beer. A small growl slips my lips as I step closer, slapping it out of his hand. Angry cry cutting through the air he rounds on me scowling deeply.  
“What the fuck?!”  
My eyes roll as my arms cross. Though I’m fucking terrified of possible answers, I’m not scared of him. Sure he’s got a ton more muscle than I have, and should he really want too he could probably hurt me, but he’s also currently drunk and more likely to fall and injure himself instead. Letting out a steady breath I narrow my eyes. “I’m done playing games. I’ve asked, Kyle’s asked, Kenny’s asked. I’m done fucking asking. You’re going to tell me about the holes. Now.” Eyes widening he blinks up at me before his from returns.  
“No I’m not.”  
My eyes squeeze closed as my arms drop to my sides, fists balling tightly; ready. Exhaling heavily I fight to keep my cool, practically spitting through gritted teeth as I call his bluff. “We know they’re graves.”

Any and all colour left his face, staggering back a little as if I’d pushed him, wide eyed and frantic. I have my answer, one at least. The whistle and gasp of surprise from beside me indicate Kenny saw it too. Stan’s mouth is opening and closing, but no words leave; no denial is offered. My mind is spinning, there are dead people mere feet away from me, dead people who have no business in being dead. This is some seriously fucked up shit right here. My mouth goes dry as his name repeats in my head, beating like a drum in time with my heart; Tweek, Tweek, Tweek. Breath catching, I’m fighting to find words. Strangled pained thoughts claw in my throat fighting to get out, yet nothing comes. Hardened eyes corner Stan, letting out a low breath through my mouth I barely mutter, “who?” Instantly his head shakes in defiance.  
“No one. Th-they aren’t.. I..”  
But he can’t hold any composure. His face is flushed, words stuttered and entirely unbelievable. Taking another step forwards I reach out gripping his shoulder tightly as I snarl. “Bullshit! Talk!”

Still he’d refused, he did so again after I slammed him against a wall. By this point Kenny is trying to reason with the pair of us, but we aren’t listening. Letting him go I turn throwing my hands up as I let out a frustrated scream. Only as I look up I notice a shovel. Stepping forwards to grab it I round on him again. “I swear to fucking god Stan. Tell me or I’m digging one up.” His red cheeks pale instantly as his own fists ball.  
“No!”  
Raising an eyebrow I shrug, it’s entirely his choice. I count to ten, giving him time to start talking before turning to walk towards the door, shovel in hand. However before I make it a heavy weigh slumps against my back, the shovel flying to the side as I collapse to the floor. Evidently Stan had attempted to prevent me from following through. What had actually happened on the other hand is, a drunken idiot stumbled over his own garbage and sent both of us tumbling to the ground. 

I bounce back to my feet faster than him, but he’s now between me and the shovel. Growling I take a step forwards hoping to pass him but now standing he grabs my arm.  
“Leave it alone Craig! It has nothing to do with you!”  
I want to believe him, I want to believe that so much. That my imagination has just run away with me, but if that’s truly the case then I need him to confirm that my Tweek isn’t decaying in an unmarked grave. He won’t. Frowning I slap his hand off of my arm and round on him. Puffing his chest a little he squares up to me.  
“Get the hell out of here! Both of you!”  
Shaking my head I tut, “can’t do that Stan. I need answers.” My voice somehow remains steady, his does not.  
“Well tough shit! You gonna make me talk?!”  
Though his eyes are daring me to hit him, a smaller glint in them suggests that his preferred choice would be for me to let it go. He may not want this fight, but he’s given fair warning that should I start it? He’ll finish it. Realistically, based on body mass and general ability, I can’t win this fight. Add in the fact that hitting someone who is inebriated doesn’t sit well with me, I’m hesitating. Our eyes lock, searching each others, yet neither finding what we need both body’s tense, poised to attack. As my arm begins to pull back before striking, its stopped in motion as Kenny’s hand wraps around my bicep, halting it in place. My head snaps to him, “let go.” As his head shakes he lets out a heavy sigh.  
“No. This isn’t going to achieve anything.”  
He’s probably right, I still pull at his grasp on an attempt to free my arm. He doesn’t understand, doesn’t see the urgency, or so I believe. His eyes leave mine to settle on Stan, small sad smile offered as he sighs heavily.  
“You do need to talk Stan. But we’ll leave. Just don’t be surprised if the police show up in say, twenty four hours?”  
Panic floods the boys face as his jaw drops, an ultimatum, I like it. Satisfied that he’s now cornered, only has a set amount of time to reveal his secrets before they’ll become public knowledge, gives me the slightest slither of relief. With that I find my arm lowering to my side, Kenny’s hand releasing it as I’m deemed no longer a threat. I failed at my task, am forced to remain in limbo for at least another day. But my fight is gone, this objective was never completable, at least not by me. Body sagging as if defeated, rather than having ended on a stalemate, I sigh heavily shaking my head at the perplexed Stan, before turning to follow Kenny out.


	43. Chapter 43

I don’t know if it’s the cold air nipping at my skin, or the graves now being in view again, but something snaps in my head and again rationality is gone. Kenny continues to walk away, grumbling about how Stan is an even bigger idiot than he thought. I only manage four steps after him before I change direction. My heartbeat is echoing in my ears, getting louder with each step towards them. As I reach the bottom of the first grave I stop, paralysed in place. It had been disturbing enough when it was merely a dark thought; now confirmed it’s so much worse. My teeth pull sharply at my bottom lip, eyes squeezing closed as I drop to my knees in front of it. Time is a strange concept, I’m not good enough at maths to work out how many hours it’s been since I last saw Tweek, a lot. Yet now with a timescale of when I could potentially find out, twenty four hours, that seems far too much. 

Letting out a deep breath, eyes still screwed shut, my arms stretch out, fingertips reaching the damp earth, I hesitate, and then they’re pushing in, clawing into the soil beneath them. Digging with complete need driving them. It’s animalistic, I am, my need is. Entirely focused on one task; oblivious to the rest of the world around me. I need to know. Now. Absorbed in my own madness I hadn’t heard his voice approaching, I hadn’t heard it until his own fingers were digging into my shoulders and pulling me away and to my feet. And then he slaps me. 

The small blonde seems to now be rethinking his decision, scratching at the back of his neck as he takes a step away from me. For once he looks unsure of himself as a nervous smile edges across his face.   
“I uh, you needed to snap out of it.”  
Red heat burns on my cheek in the shape of his hand. My mind is still spinning, my frown may be trained on him; my thoughts not so much. He’s right, I do need to snap out of it. Gritting my teeth I shake my head a little at his worry, “hit me again.” His eyebrow shoots up, wide eyed and blinking he starts to question me, but I cut him off, “hit me!” Flinching he takes another step back, shaking his head.   
“Craig, we need to go.”  
He’s quite possibly right again, but more than that I need to be able to think. I need these fucking thoughts to stop. Stepping towards him I reach out, shoving him backwards, stumbling he frowns, but before he can realise it, I’m doing it again. “Hit me! Fucking hit me you asshole!” Three pushes later he sidesteps, I’m off balance already, it doesn’t matter how light he returns a shove of his own. I hit the floor, arm grazing in the process, eliciting blood. But it’s not enough, not even close. I’m not sure anything ever would be should my worst fears be confirmed. Again he pulled me to my feet, nails digging into my arm, this time I don’t fight it. Head hanging, lump forming in my throat, I let him begin to pull me away. 

As we reach the road that’ll take us away from Tegridy Farms, he remains uncharacteristically quiet. My thoughts and fears are completely jumbled, no longer hold any sense to me. In a bid to avoid having to deal with that, my mind instead implements a fresh emotion: embarrassment. Seeing as I’m thinking of uncharacteristic actions, I’d imagine he’s doing the same damn thing. I may have been shouting, I may have pushed him, but my tone betrayed me, I could feel the pleading in my eyes. I hadn’t been looking for a fight, I hadn’t wanted to retaliate. All I wanted was to be so overwhelmed by physical pain that there was no space left for mental torture. Craig Tucker doesn’t beg, until now. 

My cheeks begin burning, eyes trained to the curb. As a child I used to pretend it was a tightrope, attempt to walk along its edge without loosing my balance. Now there’s no need for such games, I’m already on an emotional tightrope, and without Tweek? I’m missing my safety net. Kenny glances to be several times, chewing on his lip as he contemplates speaking. I’ve either left Him lost for words or actually showed him a sign that I really am human. Not a game piece to be manipulated. Either way he waits, the majority of the walk is over by the time he speaks again.   
“Soooo.. uh, what was that about?”  
Fresh fire flares, coating my face. My arms cross defensively over my chest as I fight to push a blank stare. But I can’t. Someone once said that, the problem with pain is that it demands to be felt. They’re right, because this pain is protruding, completely refusing to be suppressed. I see the shock on his face as he reads it, there’s a prickling in the back of my eyes. I won’t let the tears fall, not for him. Shaking my head I brace, fully expecting him to relentlessly question me further until he receives an answer which satisfies him. Yet he doesn’t. His mouth forms a tight line as he nods slowly shrugging and switches track.   
“Fine. Been home yet?”  
I stop in place blinking at him momentarily, before starting to walk again. Sighing I shake my head in response, “no.” His tongue clicks as he nods a little before sighing.   
“Are you ever going home?”  
My shoulders tense as I let out a heavy sigh which ripples through my body. He makes the concept of me not sound like a viable option; sound rational. But it isn’t, and even in my current mind frame I know that. I don’t however actually know where I’m currently going.

The lack of darkness is enough to tell me that my father would still be at work. Home, I have to go back at some point, sighing I nod yes in response. But he won’t let it go.   
“Well when then?”  
My heavy groan rips through the air. Stopping, I pinch the bridge of my nose and think. Should I have to go back, it’d be better if he wasn’t in. That makes now a prime opportunity, I’m entirely unprepared, one wrong word away from a terrible decision. Yet still despite everything, the thought holds some comfort. A smaller part of me relishes in the idea of seeing my father, I’m sure then physical pain could easily be arranged. By now he’s realised I’ve stopped, has in return paused himself, eyebrow cocked as he awaits an answer. Thoughts are flying too fast to make a rational decision, fuck it. Inhaling deeply I shrug before exhaling with a sigh. “Now.”

As the house comes into view I’m simultaneously filled with sudden fear and relief. The latter due to my fathers car being absent as I’d expected. The former? I have no idea what the fuck I’m about to walk in to. He’s really gone off the deep end this time, there’s no telling what he’s capable of. And regardless of what anyone wants to say, none of this would have happened were it not for me. I’m at least some capacity, this is my fault. I find myself paralysed in place upon the doorstep, neither making a move to knock nor reaching for my keys. I’m stalling, time isn’t; with each second I waste, there is less time before he returns. Still stood statue like, unmoving, the decision is made for me. As the door swings open, I blink confused straight ahead, seeing nothing. In the next instant a high pitched giggle sounds as small arms wrap around my waist. Lowering my gaze I find a smile tugging at my lips at the sight of Ruby, I don’t think she’s ever been quite so happy to see me, nor I her. 

Pain subsides some, I’ll partly accredit that to the joy and childhood innocence shining through her shrill squeal and giggles as I pick her up to squeeze, stepping inside before setting her down and shutting the door. Her eyes are bright as she grins up at me, emotional warmth fills my body for the first time in a while. I’m pulled from the moment when my mothers voice sounds from the kitchen doorway. Head snapping up, my grin in falls mid air as I take in her face, unable to stop the gasp. She’s aged, lost weight, looks on edge even now, she also wears a variety of bruises. A deep frown sets in my brow, pure hatred for the man responsible is pumping through me. Her voice catches as my name drops from her mouth, tears beginning to fall as she closes the gap between us, pulling me close as her arms wrap around me. My tense body gives way upon contact, collapsing into and returning her embrace. Just like that my own tears are back and falling in time with hers. 

Where mine are dripping silently, hers are accompanied by sobs and apologies. I know she loves me, and hell I love her too, but how many times can she stand by him? She doesn’t even truly have a reason to apologise, except I suppose her clear inability to leave him. But the fact is he’s ground her down to the point where she genuinely thinks his actions are her fault. It’s such a fucking mess, and just another thing to add to the list of things I can’t fix. As she pulls back I hastily wipe my eyes, aiming to pretend it hadn’t happened. Another thing my dad drilled into me: boys don’t cry, or at least they shouldn’t. 

Each member of my family has the uncanny ability to act as if nothing has happened, even when things clearly have. Ruby’s surprised expression at the embrace before her, was gone as soon as it was over. My mother, though tears are still dripping, pushes a smile announcing she’s going to make snacks. It doesn’t make sense, other than in regards to my default setting of avoidance. Yet at the same time it feels totally normal, maybe we’re all broken. In her absence ruby reclaims my attention. A fresh smile pulls at my lips as she chatters about Stripe, he’s currently been relocated to her room, which I approve of; at least he won’t get lonely. 

As the three of us somewhat enjoyed each other’s company, the elephant in, well I guess not yet in, the room is ignored. The clock in the hallway can be heard ticking from here. With each tick time slips away, soon enough he’ll return. For a change I don’t want to day dream, I don’t want to contemplate the meaning of time, nor the way it works. Yet between the ticking and the darkening sky visible through the window it has become inescapable. I find myself twitchy, stuck in a state of anticipation as I repeatedly look over my shoulder to the door. Any minute now he’ll let himself in, assess this situation and react. Now as I fully consider this, I no longer want to feel the physical pain I’m fairly certain he’d take pleasure in inflicting. But with clock out of sight I’m not able to fully prepare myself for his arrival, my heart drops, a cold chill running through me as I hear his car pull up. Gulping I survey the others, Ruby’s body is tense, my mothers completely rigid. Shit. 

Letting out a shaky breath, I push forwards, perching on the edge of my seat, hands tightly gripping the arms as my stare returns to the door. Mere seconds later his large frame is filling it. Grip tightening, my nails dig into the arms of the seat, bracing, his eyes first find my mother and sister, confused frown forming as he studies them before his gaze strays. As it lands on me there’s a moment of surprise, but it’s fleeting, all too soon the frown has returned and this time it’s not confusion burning behind his eyes. Pushing to my feet I gulp softly as the door slams behind him, cracking his knuckles he steps towards me.   
“What are you doing here boy?”  
My mind immediately supplies a variety of possible smart ass retorts, for once I suppress them. The look on his face is unnerving, as he moves closer my head screams that the distance is no longer safe. Only as I back away his smirk grows, suddenly I feel trapped. Out in the open I’d had an advantage, something now is telling me that this time I’m going to need to be creative. 

He steps forwards, I step backwards, it’s like a kind of deadly dance. The manic cackle falling from his mouth makes my stomach turn, but as my mother stands the laughing stops cut off with a yell.   
“This is nothing to do with you! Sit the fuck down!”  
Her mouth opens and closes before she obeys like a dog. My stomach is now doing somersaults, Ruby’s whimpers cut through the air as she hugs her knees. Seeing he’s distracted I make my move, finally turning my back as I begin sprinting up the stairs to my room. As soon as I’m in I fumble with the lock, it’s nothing fancy, should he wish to he’ll be able to break it down. That isn’t the point, it buys me time. His voice echos through the entire house, heavy footsteps approaching, squeezing my eyes closed I take deep breaths before moving to the window. With shaking hands I begin to lower myself, he’s pounding on the door by now. My eyes dart around my room, as I look over the empty space where Stripe’s cage usually sits I’m hit with a physical reminder that nothing I love is how it should be. My mothers voice pleads with him as I climb down. I’m sure it won’t end well, but as soon as I hit the ground I run, not waiting around to find out. Craig Tucker is a fucking coward.


	44. Chapter 44

My thoughts blur in time with the scenery as my feet slap heavily against the pavement. My heart is racing, chest is screaming, but my legs keep working, carrying me away. There will be consequences for my actions, I have no doubt about that. But I won’t be there to witness them. Whether it’s further mental scars for my sister, or far more physical marks on my mother; hell it’ll probably be both. I hate myself for letting them bare the brunt of my actions. Sure the primary person at blame is the shit head who happens to be my father, there is a portion of fault however which is undeniably mine. Had I stayed I’d have been the target, they’re just collateral damage. Whatever way I look at it, whatever I’ve left behind is my fault. 

Gasping for air, my lungs are thankful when I trip, legs giving way. Flailing slightly my hands reach out, making contact with and then gripping a wall to save myself. Bent over with my head hanging I take sharp fast breaths, it’s counterproductive I’m aware, yet my body is simply thankful to be able to take in more air. As my breathing starts to steady I slowly push to stand, looking up to take in my surroundings. I’m on a bridge, below me is water. Glistening in the moonlight, it’s beautiful, mesmerising, utterly inviting, but most importantly, it’s a long way down. Mouth hanging slightly agape I watch the light upon the water dance, my hands tighten a little on the wall as I lean further over. I don’t know if it’d kill you, the fall, it’d definitely hurt. In a moment when life seems so completely futile, my mind reaches back to a dark place. Nipping sharply at my bottom lip I consider it, if it is indeed high enough? I could be dead in a second. Bam, splash, gone. It’s really that fucking simple. A haunting voice lurking in said dark space whispers to me that it’d be for the best. Nails scrape against brick, jaw clenched tightly as I swallow shaking my head. My mind is spinning, it’s my fault. The voice agrees ‘your fault, your fault’. A small whimper escapes my lips. Focusing back in on the water, it looks so fucking peaceful. It wouldn’t be a bad death. 

This of course has my mind swirling back to earlier. Before my eyes water transforms to soil, my breath catches. It’s not real, it not fucking real. Leaning further still, on my tiptoes now I squeeze my eyes closed shaking my head before reopening them, of course the water is back. Relief visits briefly, but all too soon a new thought has formed: what is a bad death? Who’s to say those who went into the graves did so dead? Fresh visions destroy my mind, fingers clawing at dirt, yet far more panicked than mine had been earlier. These are trying to dig out, buried alive. Cold chills run down my body, grip loosening some. How long would you last until the dirt suffocated you? When each breath hurts because you’re inhaling dirt, panic would set in; like mine earlier; your breathing would increase. The voice is back, loud laughter rings around my head ‘Too late. Your fault. Gone.’ Playing on a fucking loop, on repeat. Tears sting at my eyes, he could already be gone, I could be gone in an instant. I could make it stop, please I just want it to stop. ‘Your fault, your fault, your fault!’ “FUCK OFF!” I scream into the air, pushing back sharply from the wall I stumble, landing on solid ground; tears starting to fall. 

I hadn’t moved for a while, and once I did it was merely to press my back against the wall. Literally grounded seemed the best fucking option. Im not sure how long I’ve been here now, but the voice has stopped and my ass is numb. My cheeks are stiff from dried tears, yet fresh ones still fall. The floodgates have opened and it’d seem I’m powerless to stop them. It’s been a while since a car passed, but that doesn’t negate the fact I’m next to a road; far too public of an area for me to be bawling like a baby. Mustering a scrap of energy I push myself up, taking a breath a glance over my shoulder to the water once more, before pushing my hands into my pockets as I turn to walk away. 

My go to of course is my usual clearing, I’m on my way there even before I realise it. Keeping my head bowed to hide my emotion, I mutter pleadingly to be wrong. Because if I’m right, and he’s already gone, then what is the point in fucking anything? So absorbed in my own problems I’m oblivious to that around me. To be fair, I’d noticed the bench as I’d passed it, however in glancing up to look at it, only six or so steps later I didn’t notice the legs stretched across the path, until that is it’s too late; once again I hit the ground. Letting out a low groan I push up grumbling. “What the hell?!” Before blinking as I notice a familiar face before me. Slumped against a tree, bottle of whiskey in hand sits Stan Marsh, and upon his face sit the tear stains I can feel on my own. 

Sighing I watch his cheeks flush, pushing to sit up opposite him as I wipe my own eyes.   
“Sorry, s’my bad..”  
His slurred voice tells me he hasn’t stopped drinking today, suddenly I wonder if he’s on the ground simply because he couldn’t make it to the bench. As I look over his pitiful form, any anger I held for him dissolves. I simply cannot believe that he could kill someone, I just can’t. The boy broke into a farm once and stole a ton of baby cows to save their lives for Christ’s sake. So his mom? She’s been acting weird as fuck, if it’s her I can’t exactly blame him. If we’re responsible for our parents actions? Well, I’m completely fucking screwed. Shaking my head I shuffle next to him reaching to take the bottle from his hand and swig from it myself. It burns and tastes disgusting, but I don’t care. He however does, letting out a whine as he loses contact with it. My eyes roll as I hold it hostage out of his reach. “What are you doing out here?”

The silence which had followed my question, lasted long enough for me to expect nothing else further. Yet eventually with a deep sigh he spoke.   
“Everything’s so fucked up.”  
Raising an eyebrow I sniff shrugging and nod a little. His eyes close as his head rests back to the tree, small smirk playing on his lips.   
“I’ll answer when you do?”  
For a second I freeze, bottle stopping mid air. Is this our thing now? I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve passed that back and forth. Squeezing my eyes closed I take a deep breath, followed by an even longer swig from the bottle. Okay, I’ll play. Passing the bottle back to him without looking, I focus my eyes instead to the moon, and begin to explain what brought me here. 

“Fuck.”  
Again it takes him so long to process my words that his sudden speech takes me by surprise, has me jumping. My cheeks burn, I kind of hate that I’ve told him such personal details, but hey he’s drunk and may not even remember. Moreover, it’s his turn now. Slowly turning my head, thankful for the now near complete darkness hiding my fresh tears I sigh, “your go.” His breath catches, he’s hesitating, if he backs out now I swear to god-.  
“My cat killed my Aunt Flo.”  
Frowning a little I open and close my mouth, he’s taking the piss right? Rolling my eyes I growl, snatching the bottle back. “Fuck You Marsh. I told the truth.” But in the next instant as his sob cuts through the air, my hard eyes are blinking. Stomach churning I study him before letting out a small gasp. Either he deserves an Oscar, or he’s telling the truth. 

I let silence fall again as his words spin in my head, one thought circling, so I voice it “how?” Because I mean, maybe she tripped over it down the stairs? That could happen right? Pawing at my arm in search of the bottle he whines a little, only once I’ve passed it over does he respond, in his drunken state he seems far away. I’m not sure he’s fully aware that he’s telling me this, but I’m not going to argue, god knows I’ve been trying to find out long enough.   
“My Aunt Flo got me the cat, she always brings something when she visits. Just, it’s not like other cats.”   
As he pauses a memory of my stalker demon cat appears, surely not...  
“It, oh fuck I know this sounds insane, hell my mom doesn’t believe me. She thinks it’s me. But it isn’t! It’s the cat.”  
As he trails off I’m left totally perplexed. As my brain works to make connections, the gulping beside me suggests he instead is focused on finishing the bottle. It isn’t like other cats, his mom thinks it’s him. Sharon thinks— Sharon had the shovel. My heartbeat is echoing in my ears as it hits me, the cat is killing people? Sharon thinks it’s Stan and is burying them? Really?

Until this moment I’ve never known silence so loud. My head is spinning, because it’s impossible right? But till recently I’d thought the same of parallel universes. Shaking my head I sigh, “the cat is the reason for the graves?” His shadowy figure nods in response. An answer which provides so many more questions. Of all the questions I could ask, one shines brightly like the North Star. I want to ask it, hell I need to, but it’s stuck in my throat. My eyes are welling up at even the possibility. Voice now shaky I ease my way in. “S-Stan? Do you know who’s in the graves?” Again I get a nod in response. Hanging my head I grit my teeth, taking deep breaths, now or never.   
“Tw-Tweek?”  
It’s all I can manage before my voice trials off into nothingness. The split second it takes him to make the connection, before he lets out a gasp, seems to last an eternity.   
“O-Oh that’s why- no. No Craig no.”  
A deep breath accompanied by a sob fall from my mouth simultaneously, I’ve never know relief like this. I don’t even care that he can see me ugly crying. I can hear his voice, make out enough words to hear he’s apologising for making me think that was a possibility. But it doesn’t matter, Tweek is still alive, nothing else matters. 

Other than my own whimpers and sniffs as I fight to contain my emotions, silence resumes. Well silence other than clunking from Stan’s backpack as he retrieves another bottle. Boy is going to get alcohol poisoning if he’s not careful. By the time I’ve calmed myself enough to return my gaze to him a quarter of the bottle is already gone. Chewing my lip I reach to take it from him again. Predictably he groans, reaching for it, but by this point he can’t even nearly do so, his coordination is totally off. Grimacing as I sip, sniffing again I shrug.   
“You’re not going home?”  
Between grumbles I’m sure I hear a no slip, understandable really. Pushing up I sigh taking another sip as I look down at him. If I misjudged this, his weight will send us both to the floor again, guess I better not fuck it up. Reaching down I grip his arms, it’s a struggle and he’s heavier than he looks, but I get him to his feet. A small blush coats my cheeks as my arm slides around his waist, but it’s necessary, there’s no other way he’s staying upright. As I start walking he stumbles and trips almost immediately, slowing down I resign myself to the fact that this will be a marathon rather than a sprint. 

As I lead him back towards the heart of town I weigh up my options, he clearly doesn’t want to return home, and who can blame him? I plan on waking Clyde at some point, but after his day he deserves more than me turning up with this drunken idiot in tow. Kyle and Kenny are the sensible options. Scratch that probably only Kenny. But as I steer him in the opposite direction I decide that his inebriated state may be useful for more answers than one. He’s not even upright anymore, hanging on to me for dear life, I’m taking advantage of the situation and I know it. “So, Kyle seemed upset today.” Instantly he groans tensing and sighs. “Any idea why?” His grumbling is no longer coherent, I’m not sure if he’s actually trying to answer or just annoyed with the conversation in general, yet still I push harder. “You know he won’t wait forever right? And he doesn’t deserve this, you know that.” His heavy sigh is proof in itself. “If you don’t lay your claim then someone else will man..” pulling away from me he stumbles backwards, just barely saving himself from falling and frowns.   
“Is that a threat?”  
My eyes widen before I blink at him and laugh. “Not me you idiot.. dear god..” staggering again he blinks blushing mouth forming an O before shrugging and starting to walk, all be it taking equal amounts of steps both backwards and forwards. Rolling my eyes I move to grip his arm pulling him along with me, it’s impressive he hasn’t realised where we are yet. 

As we reach our destination I hand him the bottle again, this in turn distracts him enough for me to set my plan in motion. Kneeling down I rummage around until I find a small stone. The lights in the house are off, I hope his parents are light sleepers. Training my eyes to his window, I pause as I aim before sending the stone hurtling towards it. Mere seconds later the curtain twitches, taking in my form he gives me a confused stare before again disappearing, minutes later He’s is in the doorway. Moving out of the light I again grab Stan’s arm, as I pull him in to view and over to the door I watch a multitude of emotions cross Kyle’s face. He looks like he wants to talk, has an array of inquiries, yet no words come. As his eyebrow raises questioningly I smirk a little shrugging pushing Stan towards him. “I believe this belongs to you.”


	45. Chapter 45

As Stan staggered, losing his footing and falling against the taller guy, Kyle had braced just in time to catch him; saving them both from falling. His shock switched for confusion mainly, but I didn’t miss the warmth in his eyes as he smiled down at the boy in his arms. Alcohol has Stan talking, assuming that Kyle can keep Sheila from finding out that he’s here, this could be good for both of them. Sparks of red flare on his cheeks as his eyes meet mine again, nodding a little as he gives me a small smile.  
“Thanks.”  
Returning his nod I turn walking away, hands pushing into my pockets as I smile a little to myself. For once I actually feel like I’ve done the right thing. 

Alone now, I feel comfortable enough to go to Clyde’s, it’s late so I doubt he’ll thank me, but hell, I may even continue this new thoughtful side of myself and let him talk about Bebe till he falls back asleep. That’s what he deserves, I already shit on his parade over lunch. He’s been so fucking happy and I just left. Sure, were I to tell him why I’m sure he’d understand. Yet now that I have answers, the subject doesn’t seem as pressing. Just knowing that somewhere out there my Tweek is breathing, alive, is enough. Even if he’s out of my reach, leaving me with a heavy heart, knowing my worst fears were wrong? It’s elating, I’ve never been so fucking thankful. He’s still gone, but just gone as in missing, I can work with that. It’s only as I’m approach my best friends house that I’m reminded of my first encounter with what I assume is Stan’s cat, but lack of eerie glowing red eyes leads me to believe that my luck hasn’t completely run dry yet. 

After several minutes of knocking, Clyde appears in the doorframe wearing only boxers, complete with bed hair. His eyes are only semi open as he groans at me, guess I woke him, chuckling softly I slip past him and inside, making my way up to his room without waiting for an invite. The sound of the door shutting and his footsteps following me lets me know he isn’t too annoyed, or at least isn’t awake enough to realise it if he is. Luckily I know this room as well as my own, and do not need to put on the light to find myself some sweat pants to sleep in, the added bonus of this darkness being I feel comfortable enough to change with him in the room. Not that I really need to worry, as soon as he enters he slips face first back into the bed. 

Now changed I slide in beside him, only upon feeling the heat do I realise how cold I’d been. As my foot brushes his leg he lets out a small yelp recoiling.  
“Jesus Christ your toes are like ice!”  
Smirking I shrug moving closer and taking him by surprise as I wrap my arms around him pulling him close; stealing his body heat. “Ahh but you’re so warm, share man.” Squealing he’d thrashed momentarily before accepting his fate grumbling as he shivers a little.  
“I hate you.”  
“Love you too.” I chuckle releasing him and rolling away again, his grumbles still tumbling through the air. I don’t need to be able to see his face to know he’s pouting. Rolling my eyes I shrug a little smiling, I could live to regret this; something tells me that I won’t. “So, Bebe?” A content sigh follows as he turns to face me, the moonlight shining through the window illuminating his face to show me his equally goofy and sleepy grin.  
“I’m so fucking happy. And it’s not just the dance, I’m taking her out Friday night.”  
Chuckling I nod giving him permission to elaborate. His bedside clock tells me I’ve listened for 25 minutes before his voice trails off as his body gives way to sleep. Staring up at his ceiling I let out a small sigh, smile playing on my lips. That wasn’t actually too bad, and I’m really happy for him. However this pulls at my heart a little for another reason: the difference in how I feel for Clyde compared to Token. I miss him already. So far there’s no sign that feeling is mutual. 

As my best friends heavy breathing sounds from beside me, I sigh rolling to face away from him, and in turn the sound. Much as I love the boy beside me, there’s someone else I’d much rather was there, in his place. As my eyes slip closed I see his face, small smile forming on my own as I take in his beauty. However as my mind slips back, unfortunately for me, it also gives way to sleep; resulting in some kind of dream/memory mash up. 

It’s his face, his body, him, my memory never fails, yet the location is wrong; he shouldn’t be here. A cold chill hangs in the air as I close the gap which separates us, hand grazing over the wall beside me as I walk across the bridge to meet him in the middle. Stopping next to him I turn to look at the water below us. Each ripple has the suns rays sparkling, it’s beautiful. Turning to face the boy beside me I smirk to myself, because so is he, beautiful. His eyes remain on the water, not yet having noticed my stare, I’m content to wait, watch him. Absentmindedly my hand reaches out, brushing an eyelash from his cheek. Only upon contact instead they find wet, tears. Wait what? When did he start crying?

My hand recoils, face falling as he begins to sob, my heart falls in my chest as I move to wrap my arms around him. But he stops me. Instead he roughly pushes me back, the tears are gone, replaced by rage. What the fuck is going on?  
“How could you?!”  
Blinking I open my mouth to respond, but he isn’t finished.  
“Kyle?! Since when do you like Kyle?!”  
My stomach drops, mouth falling open. I was going to tell him; I’m too late. My mouth opens and closes more than once, but my mind fails to find words, I’m not sure there are any that could fix this. My palms are sweaty, head spinning in panic, all I manage to squeak before he again cuts me off, is his name.  
“I was totally wrong about you. I opened myself up and let you in, but you’ve got spikes, man. You’ve got spikes.”  
Tears sting at my eyes now, but how can I argue with that? Muddles of thoughts circle my mind, yet nothing I feel could help presents itself. Teeth pull sharply at my bottom lip as tears begin to drip. “Tweek, I-I’m Sorry, it meant nothing! It wasn’t planned! I love you.” But his stare remains hard as his back turns to me.  
“Love doesn’t come with a plan Craig. It’s over.”  
My body is rooted to the spot like a statue as I watch him walk away. He holds his composure until he’s crossed the bridge, then I see his arms wrap his arms around himself, he twitches more than once. I want to follow him, beg and plead. I need him. But that’s not what he wants, so I don’t. My eyes return to the water, it’s beauty seemingly intensified through the blurring my tears have caused. One last glance back to him proves he hasn’t stopped or changed his mind. It’s over and it’s all my fucking fault. The voice is back ringing in my head. There’s no fight left, so I listen and jump.  
As I hit Clyde’s bedroom floor my eyes fly open, heart racing, I take deep breaths. Holy shit that felt real. 

Dropping down at the table opposite Kyle I let out a small groan stretching before sighing, “so did he tell you?” His eyes widen a little as his cheeks flush, body answering with no need for words. Nodding a little I sigh pulling out my food to pick at, “where is he anyway?” Blush increasing he shrugs a little.  
“He spent this morning throwing up, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s still in my bed-“  
“Nice who?”  
My eyes roll as Kyle’s cheeks reach a new level of red. Kenny’s lopsided smile is trained to him, I’m pretty sure he already knows the answer. Regardless Kyle simply ignores the question, looking back to me.  
“He’s meeting us at Clyde’s after school though.”  
This takes me by surprise, looks like his walls are fully down now, there’s no middle ground with Stan apparently. Sighing softly I nod a little. I have no idea why, but clearly we aren’t discussing this further right now. Hope that’s cool with Clyde. 

Slowly our table fills up with its newfound regulars, no sooner than Clyde is seated, Kyle is asking if he is okay with it. He looks slightly baffled, but agrees easily enough, sometimes I think that we’re he anymore laid back he would literally be laying down. Once it’s established that everyone here will be joining us, a frown sets in Kenny’s brow as he crosses his arms, scowl aimed at Kyle.  
“If I’m coming, why won’t you tell me?”  
As Kyle’s eyes roll dramatically I smirk to myself, I appear to have taught him something. Somewhat reluctantly he turns to the boy beside him sighing.  
“That’s different. Besides, it’s up to me what I share and who with.”  
Kyle’s hard stare has Kenny blinking in surprise, Tweek looking confused, Butters and Cartman looking concerned, and Clyde, well actually Clyde hasn’t noticed and is still eating. Annoyance coats Kenny’s face immediately, Kyle’s eyes don’t stay in him long enough to register the hurt that follows. I guess Kyle really has drawn a line in their friendship, at least to an extent. Letting my eyes roam around, I sigh inwardly to myself as they find Token, sat with Wendy, his arm draped around her shoulders as they eat, and I’m reminded of how hard a decision that can be. 

Kenny remains uncharacteristically quiet following Kyle’s words, I suspect under his Parker hides a pout. Raising an eyebrow I scan the others, by now all look confused, but as my best friend finishes his meal in record speed he’s suddenly curious.  
“So uh, why are we going to mine?”  
Shrugging as I push the remainder of my food over to him, which he accepts with a grin, I save Kyle some time. “Stan finally spoke. It’s his cat.”  
Only problem being that my explanation is barely one, once I’ve said it and all eyes are staring at me questioningly I realise blushing and sigh trying again, “uhh it’s like psychotic or something?”  
“D-Does it have red eyes”  
The squeak at the end of his voice has my breath catching as my neck snaps around to look at him. His wide eyes hold some panic, for the first time he’s acting somewhat like my Tweek, and it does nothing but fill me with unease. Jaw hanging slightly agape I just stare at him, Kyle seeming to realise I’m stuck in place takes over nodding.  
“Yes, why?”  
His face scrunches as he shivers a little, a frown is starting to set in my brow as I make connections, I knew Stan was fucking involved. A small but heavy sigh from Cartman pulls my focus, and in the same moment confirms it.  
“Oh dear, I guess that’s from our reality to.”  
Kenny is blinking and lost for words, impressive, as my head rescans the group I’m not even surprised to see Kyle with a notebook out again. Butters looking downright terrified manages to squeak.  
“Oh jeez fellas, that sounds real scary.”  
My eyes roll as I run my hand down my face, “killer cats, practical.” Clyde’s eyes bulge a little as he chokes on his drink finally catching up, the Tweek the other side of me doesn’t let my words stand though, instead he challenges my sarcasm.  
“Well we don’t keep them as pets.”  
Blinking a little back at him I shrug off his words as I suppress a blush. As Kyle rifles through his notes he eventually lets out an annoyed tut.  
“Why didn’t you two mention this earlier?”  
Cartman flinches a little at his words before spitting his own out.  
“S-Sorry, I guess it didn’t seem important. We didn’t know there were any here.”  
His rigid, tense body soon relaxes as Kyle’s frown drops, replaced instead with an understanding nod. Silence encases the table as everyone looks thoughtful, everyone that is other than Clyde. He simply looks like he regrets having asked the question. 

The rest of the school day had passed in a blur, time seeming to speed up as my anticipation increased. I’ve remained locked in my own head the most of the walk to Clyde’s, Kyle has been rapidly firing questions at the two boys who have knowledge on the subject, whist simultaneously dodging Kenny’s, which are aimed at him. As we turn into the street I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding, relief spreading through my body as I see Stan outside leaning against his car. Without being able to see Kyle, who’s behind me, I’m fully aware of the moment he notices Stan, his breath hitches a little as his voice cuts out mid sentence, following this small sighs of relief come from Cartman and Tweek. Kenny lets out a low chuckle, guess he knows who was in Kyle’s bed, I’m surprised it took him this long, though I imagine really he was just seeking confirmation. 

As we enter the house and take our seats I note that Stan seems to still be trying to keep up appearances, playing a part, and Kyle is still letting him. It’s damn exhausting enough for me, I don’t know how he does it. Pushing past the element of unease in his posture he again pulls out notes, summarising our new found knowledge. Once everyone is up to speed, which required several run through for both Butters and Clyde, Kyle finally opens the floor for others to speak, welcoming recommendations. 

Soon his expectant smile is faltering when none come, Clyde and Butters look completely perplexed, unable to rationalise what they’ve been told let alone process it further than that. Stan’s body sags in time with mine, suggesting at least, that like me: he’s done nothing but think of possibilities and come up dry. Kenny’s tongue clucks a little as he smirks chuckling at Kyle.  
“Well now you need me. I know where to start.”

My eyebrow raises as I watch the pair, red beginning to dance across Kyle’s cheeks as he refuses to look at the blonde.  
“Where?”  
Curt and to the point, he’s not playing. My eyes roll as I sigh inwardly upon hearing Kenny chuckle again, he’s either oblivious or doesn’t care. I’d assume the latter.  
“Well, what’s it worth to you?”  
“Kenny stop fucking around! This is serious!”  
The boys head falls back, manic laughter tumbling out, he damn near looks possessed. But Kyle’s words are ringing in my head, this is serious. And if he has an idea of how to end it? He better start fucking talking. Batting his eyelashes, his stare returns to Kyle.  
“Blow me?”  
My eyes bulge and I can’t help it, I gag a little. Fucking gross. Kyle’s mouth hangs agape, which is actually pretty unfortunate considering the request, as he stares at Kenny blinking, cheeks burning to match his hair. Then from beside him a growl rips through the air, all eyes dart to Stan as his eyes challenge Kenny’s, yet no one speaks of comments. Kenny shrugs, try’s to laugh it off, but Stan’s eyes are trained to him, unwavering, almost daring the blonde boy to continue. After a tense few minutes Kenny hangs his head, holding his hands up, he mutters an apology. As Stan finally turns away, the rest of us follow suit, staring instead at random points of the room, sure it no longer looks like we were watching him, but we’re hardly inconspicuous. Regardless Stan doesn’t comment, acting as if nothing happened he runs his hand down his face sighing.  
“Just tell me how to get rid of this fucking cat..”  
Kenny pauses pouting a little before letting out a heavy sigh, shrugging as he leans back.  
“We need to find out where she got it.”


	46. Chapter 46

He’s right, of course he is, I’m not telling him that though. Kyle’s head snaps to the blonde wide eyed and blinking, he on the other hand doesn’t need words to let Kenny know that he’s right, and the fresh smirk forming on his face gives it away. Stan alternatively looks terrified, all the colour seeming to have drained from his face as he frantically starts to shake his head.  
“Dude, I’m trying to keep people away from it! I don’t want you all in the house.”  
Kenny sighs shrugging as he crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow at Stan.  
“Do you have a better idea?”  
Groaning he rests his head in his hands, that’s a no. Taking a breath I survey the room, Stan isn’t the only one uncomfortable with the idea. Butters is fidgeting in his seat, the Cartman beside him looking ready to run. Sighing I turn my head to Clyde, just in time to see the moment realisation crosses his face. As his nose scrunches up in distaste I sigh, that’s three out. Taking a breath I look to the Tweek beside me, his teeth are gnawing at his bottom lip, but for the most part he looks calm enough, only as his own questioning stare meets mine, I feel like I’ve seen a ghost. Because for the first time I can’t read the thoughts or emotions behind his eyes. 

Kyle cuts back in with logic and a sigh.  
“Well we don’t all have to go, and we only have to look in her room. Um, where is the cat anyway?”  
Stan blinks a little shrugging.  
“Locked in Sparky’s cage, though sometimes it gets out, I don’t know how. But it doesn’t matter. You’re not coming.”  
His tone is so matter of fact that it takes me by surprise. Emotions cross Kyle’s face in quick succession before a scowl sets in.  
“What? Yes I am.”  
“No Kyle.”  
There’s an edge to Stan’s voice now, he’s showing no signs of backing down. As if in this moment he’s somehow forgotten that the rest of us are here, he’s focused only on Kyle. Kyle on the other hand glances around, upon seeing my expression he seems to decide that he isn’t overreacting; that Stan is being unreasonable. He may be, I’m not the best judge of that. We’re my Tweek here? I’d be saying the same damn thing, or at the very least thinking it. Really though, I wouldn’t put up a fight. If Tweek tells me he can do something? Then he can, I don’t question it. Hell half the things he says he can’t do, I think he can. But that doesn’t cancel out the fact I’m protective of him. I’m almost certain that, that’s what I’m witnessing right now. Much like before, when I’d been allowed to stay at Stan’s, yet Kyle sent away. He’s trying to protect him. The only problem being, Kyle doesn’t want protection. Throwing his hands in the air he frowns.  
“Why not?! Are you planning on stopping me?!”

Sighing I hang my head, I think this could get ugly, I know I shouldn’t watch, hell I don’t even really want too, but it’s as if they’re magnetic, my stare quickly finding its way back to them. Both of their eyes are burning brightly, locked in a battle of wills. Stan, tensing, frowns as he breaks the eye contact.  
“Kyle, please.”  
The redhead blinks a little at the sudden change of tone, it’s only momentary though, squeezing his own eyes closed he lets out a heavy breath, lips forming a tight line.  
“Why? Tell me why Stan? Because I’m so sick and tired of this.”  
Blinking Stan looks to him pleadingly, but Kyle isn’t bluffing, arms folding tightly as he keeps his stare trained to the other boy. Stan’s mouth opens more than once, yet no words come. Desperation is written all over his face, there’s cracks in his armour, as his body sags something I can’t read begins to shine through his eyes, hand slowly stretching across the gap between them on the sofa so his fingertips graze Kyle’s thigh. He was going to say it, I’m sure he was, three words that Kyle desperately needs to hear. However before he can, Kenny lets out a small noise as he notices the action, and just like that the moment is gone. Stan’s cheeks burn scarlet as his eyed dart around the room, suddenly remembering that they aren’t alone, his hand retracting quickly he shakes his head with a heavy sigh. Kyle lets out a scoff shaking his own head.  
“It isn’t up to you. I’m coming.”  
I’m sure Stan would like to argue that point; he doesn’t. 

Stan had remained brooding while further decisions had been made, has been silent the entire drive here. It’s only as we’re pulling up that he lets out a groan, resting his head to the steering wheel. Sighing softly I glance out of the window before looking to Kyle beside me; finding him also hesitating to get out. Kenny on the other hand has no such reluctance, instantly climbing out from the front, turning to face us and crossing his arms as he waits. I’m suddenly very aware of the way I acted towards him the last time I was here, a blush threatens to form, swallowing hard I push it away before climbing out myself. My action seems to bring Kyle to life, moments later he too exits the car, leaving only Stan, who clearly doesn’t want to get out. Head still resting against the wheel, his hands either side of it are gripping so tightly that his knuckles have whitened. Given that he’s driven us here, he’d obviously accepted that he lost the argument, only now he seems to be having second thoughts. Hell, were Kyle still in the car? I’m pretty sure he’d take off driving, leaving Kenny and myself in the dust. But as it is, Kyle isn’t in the car. I watch the dark haired boy take a heavy defeated breath as he raises his head finally, grip loosening. As he pushes out of the car he plasters on a fake smile, however counterfeit emotions only run skin deep; and were you to look too hard, it’s an obvious forgery. 

His body is still tense as he leads us up to the house, unable to help myself I glance around, resulting in me seeing a fresh mound of dirt. A cold chill runs through me, body shuddering a little at the thought of what lays beneath. Unease has taken control as my pace hastens, taring my eyes away I shake my head a little to myself before glancing up to Kyle, his clenched jaw suggests I’m not the only one this is effecting. Stan’s head is bowed, hands pushed roughly in his pockets, though he’s been uneasy about this from the start. Kenny on the other hand, practically bounded up to the door, and is now leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest as he watches us with an air of impatience. Given that my own mild panic has set in, hence my having sped up, I’m aiming to get this over with as quickly as possible. Stan on the other hand seems to have slowed; is trying to draw the walk out, avoid the impending task. Both of us are attempting to manipulate time; neither will be successful. 

As we enter the room which had formally been Stan’s Aunt Flo’s, my nose scrunches in distaste as an unfamiliar and altogether unpleasant smell invades my nostrils. If I had to say what it was I’d say musty with a hint of lavender, Kenny is far less articulate.  
“This room smells like old people.”  
My eyebrow raises a little, that’s rich coming from someone who’s house smells like a shady bar. Stan simply ignores him, something which he seems well practiced in.  
“Well this is where she was staying. We haven’t cleared it out yet, my mom can’t come in here without crying, or look at me.”  
The physical give away was his head falling a little, eyes now trained to the ground, but more so than that, with the pause in his sentence his tone changed. This is really eating him up, I suppose it must be unsettling at least to have your mother go from doting on to fearful of you. Hopefully we can fix this; hopefully Stan can fix that. Feeling a little uncomfortable I simply nod in response, realising this needs to be done at his pace. Kyle chews a little on his bottom lip, stepping forwards and reaching out to squeeze Stan’s bicep softly.  
“It’s going to be okay.”

Turning my head away from them I suppress the blush threatening to form at having witnessed what seemed such an intimate moment. Instead I focus on the task ahead, it seems both overly intrusive and distasteful to be rifling through the belongings of someone recently deceased, even more so considering my lack of connection to her. In realisation of this I find myself stalling, possibly waiting for Stan’s permission? I’m not completely sure. Regardless, before this can come, and with seemingly no thought towards the concept, Kenny merely rolls his eyes at the pair, before moving to pull open one of the drawers and starts looking through it. The creak it lets out as he slides it open pulls them back to the moment, Stan’s eyes have softened some, small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he looks up at Kyle before sighing nodding a little.  
“I guess we should just do this.” Returning his nod, Kyle steps back beginning to survey the room, realising the practicality in this, I follow suit. The room isn’t overly full, other than the bed there’s a chest of drawers, wardrobe, dressing table and two suitcases in the corner, meaning not many options; realistically this shouldn’t take long. Yet even with his permission I don’t feel comfortable, each of them moving before I’m able to make a decision. In a way this is useful as it removes the decision making process; there’s only one remaining option: the dressing table. Making my way over I sigh, sitting on the stool as I look over it, there’s only two drawers, neither of which I find contains anything of use. Sighing heavily I turn to watch the others, only now considering the idea that this could lead to nothing, give us no answers. 

Being that I’m generally pessimistic, not much time has passed before my hopes are fading. Kyle’s brow is furrowed as he methodically checks the pockets of the clothes hanging, Stan’s tongue pokes out in concentration from where he sits on the floor cross legged, sorting through the contents of the suitcase. Both guys are entirely focused, Kenny however is not. His childlike chuckle cuts through the air, dragging my eyes instead to him, and I almost fucking facepalm. This moron is holding up a pair of the dead woman’s underwear, Jesus Christ this guy has absolutely no sense of boundaries. Like, there’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed, Kenny seems to take one look at said line, then take a running jump to see how far past it he can get. Quickly I avert my eyes sighing at the sheer level of immaturity and disrespect he’s showing, Stan lets out a startled noise before launching an array of unimpressed and maybe slightly pissed off words in his friends general direction. As he trails off, Kenny lets out a humph and takes a breath; suggesting he wishes to argue. Only at that same moment my own breath catches. Sticking out from underneath the bed is a bag handle. Three heads snap to watch me as I lean to pull out the handbag, blinking a little I look back to them hesitating, scratching at the back of my neck I take it over to Stan. “I uh, I’m not comfortable going through this.” As I trail off I can feel heat on my cheeks, this only intensifies as Kenny snorts from behind me, not wanting to give him further satisfaction I flip him off without turning to face him. 

As Stan begins to remove items from the bag, the rest of us stand still in place, watching hopefully; a buzz of anticipation hanging in the air. The rustling sound as his hand digs into the bag has my breath catching before he pulls out a handful of receipts. The sight before him is seemingly deemed interesting enough for Kenny to focus on, pushing past me he drops down next to Stan on the floor, taking them from the still blinking boy then starting to look through them. Kenny works his way through quickly, entirely unbothered by the three pairs of eyed watching him, though that hardly surprising, he loves being the centre of attention. As the pile depletes so does my hope, with each one that’s crumpled and discarded his frown only grows, along with Stan’s clear desperation. There’s only three left, and I’ve just about given up, when suddenly his eyes light up, lopsided smile forming quickly as he holds it up a little.  
“And we have a winner! Though I’ve got to say, ‘The Indian Burial Ground Pet Store’ even sounds like a fucking terrible idea.”


	47. Chapter 47

The moment we pull away from Tegridy Farms, Stan’s composure is reclaimed, physically relaxing as well as mentally. For now the danger is over; though in the long run I suppose it’s only now truly beginning. We need to take the cat back; given that the two problems are related, it’s only reasonable to assume that the best place to start is where said cat came from. It is according to Kyle anyway, and I’m finding myself agreeing, especially when you add in the whole Indian burial ground thing. It really does sound like an awful idea. Nodding at his phone screen after a brief pause he starts again.   
“It’s actually only just outside town, it would take less than an hour to drive there.”  
His words have Stan tensing again, though not as hard this time. Kenny on the other hand snaps his head round to us, wide spread grin filled with far too many teeth shining ever brightly, the pleasure he’s taking in all this is unnerving to say the least.   
“Why wait?”  
My eyes roll as Kyle blinks in surprise momentarily before sighing.   
“Because, there’s other factors. Plus the website says it’s closed. I watch Stan relax again and I sigh, partly because constantly switching emotional states cant be good for him, mostly because of Kyle’s words; because of the ‘other factors’. 

Understandably both boys in the front of the car take this to mean alternate Cartman and alternate Tweek. And hell, they’re not wrong. They just also happen to be missing a key detail, an agreement Kyle and I made, one I’d even suggested. We need more than one Cartman for this, which as a concept in itself makes me feel a little sick. I can’t say I’d been completely joking when I made the suggestion, and fuck it, it still sounds like a good trade to me. Only problem being, a problem I can see Kyle is also struggling with, is the practicality behind it, or I guess impracticality. What we’ve agreed to do is essentially make someone disappear. I really should think before I speak. 

Seeming to decide there is now a safe distance between us and the demon cat, Stan pulls over in a lay-by. Pushing my fingers through my hair I sigh as Kyle’s eyes dart from side to side suggesting he’s having an internal argument. As both Stan and Kenny turn to us again their eyebrow raise, fresh confusion consuming Stan, Kenny is left to question it.   
“What is wrong with you two?”  
My jaw tenses as I flip him off, though to be fair I’ve been asking myself that a lot too recently. Kyle lets out a small squeak as his cheeks burn.   
“Uhh there’s something else.”  
Kenny’s lips pull to a smirk as his eyes shine brightly with interest. Blush increasing, Kyle hangs his head, guess it’s my turn. Taking a deep breath I sigh before shrugging, “we uh, we promised we’d send this realities Cartman back instead of the alternate.” The pained noise from beside me would suggest Kyle regrets his involvement, however with his lack of reply it’d seem he also doesn’t intend to go back on it. It’ll just weigh on his moral conscience more than mine. By now Stan’s mouth is hanging open like a flytrap in disbelief, Kenny’s brow creases as he looks thoughtful, the length of time he remains silent is beginning to worry me, but then he’s laughing.   
“Damn. That’s genius. I mean, I may expect that of you Craig, but damn Kyle I’m impressed!”

Stan had seemed less than impressed with the idea, however after watching Kyle carefully as he attempted to justify himself, the other boy seemingly gave in with a mere sigh and shrug. Kenny hadn’t seemed too concerned about it to begin with, however curiosity is now setting in.   
“So, either of you have a plan?”  
As he’s met with two blank expressions he tuts disapprovingly before looking thoughtful. Part of me is wondering if he’s put thought into this before, but I don’t actually want an answer to that question, so instead of voicing it I remain silent. Of course Kenny doesn’t wait for permission, meaning I’ll get an answer whether I want one or not. After a few minutes a smile contorts his face as he nods smugly to himself, clapping his hands together, he’s grinning as he explains his idea.   
“What if we tell him that after school, we're gonna go to Stan’s uncle’s cabin, in the woods. We're gonna have a slumber party and play Counter-Strike all night with no one around to bother us. Then say, but don't tell anyone where you're going.”  
Stan blinks at the boy in stunned silence, my own jaw drops a little. Damn, clearly he has though about getting rid of the fatass before. Going to prove that no matter how much you learn about the blonde boy, there is always more hidden. Kyle’s eyes bulge at the words, head hanging as he pulls at his hair, clearly conflicted, however before too long he’s reluctantly nodding in agreement.   
“I think he would go for that.”

An uneasy silence enveloped the car once that plan was set. Luckily Kenny volunteered to talk to Cartman, I mean I’m not entirely sure I could go through with it, and I damn well know the other two couldn’t. Kyle, sighing, heavily opted for planning out our route, Stan we’re merely leaving to make sure the cat stays in the damn cage, it’ll probably take more than one of us to get it in the damn cat carrier before the car though. Taking a deep breath I brace as my name is finally said, followed of course by my own tasks to complete. Relief washes over me as I realise all I am responsible for is informing Butters and the alternate Tweek and Cartman of said plan, and convincing Clyde to be the second driver. All in all I’d say I got off pretty easy. Once the majority of the plan has been discussed Stan starts the car up again. Out of all of us, he seems most unsure at this point, though given that he’s the one facing a homicidal cat, I’d say it’s probably fair. 

The route Stan takes in dropping us off is nonsensical; he makes Kenny’s house, which is furthest away, his first stop. Jumping out the blonde mock salutes us, toothy grin plastered on. As he pulls away I mumble my best friends name, Stan doesn’t hear me but Kyle does, obviously still unaware that Stan knows my other issue, he takes this as a sign I’m asking for help. I wasn’t; I don’t fight it.   
“Uh Craig’s staying at Clyde’s.”  
“Oh, yeah I figured.”  
“O-oh.”  
I practically see the penny drop as Kyle’s face contorts in confusion before lighting up in realisation. Groaning softly I turn to the window, resting my forehead to the glass as I squeeze my eyes closed. I’m almost positive now the reasoning for this route is for Stan to gain time alone with Kyle. Shit, I don’t even blame him, a blow job really would take the edge off right now. I just hope he doesn’t seriously think that he’s being subtle about it. 

The car has barely stopped when I hop out, being trapped in an enclosed area surrounded by pity isn’t on my to do list. Turning to face the car I nod to the pair before turning to walk down the path to knock on Clyde’s door. Hearing the car start up again as I wait has my head turning, and as it begins to roll away I witness Kyle struggling to climb into the front. Chuckling softly to my self I shake my head a little, of course at the same moment the door swings open, and filling the doorway stands my best friend, looking at me like I’m insane. Fuck it, I’m not sure that I’m not. Laughter trailing off I shrug before pushing past him to walk inside. His questioning stare lingers on me, I can feel it, however knowing he’ll follow me I ignore it. As I step into the front room I let out a small sigh of relief seeing both alternates and Butters have remained behind. Pouting a little Clyde walks up behind me.   
“Well?”  
Sighing softly I motion for him to sit down as I do the same, before reeling off both what we’ve found and planned. 

Though not overly thrilled with the set up, both Butters and alternate Cartman hold up their part of the deal. They’re coming. Next my eyes dart to alternate Tweek, there’s a sadness in his eyes that makes my stomach drop. Teeth nip sharply at my bottom lip, pulling at it a little as I hesitate before letting out a heavy sigh. “Um, is that okay with you?” Sparks of red dance across his cheeks as he forces a small sad smile, my icy heart cracking at the sight alone, I find myself faltering; were he to refuse to leave I’m not sure I could make him. I’m fully aware that he isn’t my Tweek, and our ‘friendship’ is complicated at best, but his features, his damn being as a whole controls me in ways the boy before me is unable to comprehend. Our eyes lock, and in that moment his smile becomes more genuine, though the sadness is still present, he nods slowly.   
“Yes. It kind of sucks, I really like you guys. But I know I need too.”  
Squeezing my eyes closed I swallow the lump nodding, of course my worries had been based on my own Tweek’s probably reaction. God my head hurts with all this. That left only Clyde, who after receiving multiple reassurances that the cat will be in other car, agreed surprisingly easily. The dark outside is enough to tell me time has again gotten away from us. Everyone, now aware of the part they’ll be playing, seems to realise this at the same moment. Twenty minutes later only Clyde and I remain, unspeaking; what the hell is there to be said now anyway? Without words being exchanged we migrated up to his bedroom, and whether it’s out of habit, or some desperate attempt to be ‘normal teenage boys’, we wind up playing video games until we’re ready to sleep. 

Though sleep had come easy enough, and was for the most part dreamless, when is awoken I’d felt unrested. Throughout the day as I’ve moved between classes, I’ve noticed a look of worry on each of my accomplices faces. Well except Kenny but he’s borderline psycho anyway, at least he managed to convince the fatass, remaining seemingly unfazed by his own deceit. Though I’m unable to see my self I can feel this worry etched into my own face. Time of course has seemingly slowed down, the universes way of prolonging our suffering. Not that time literally slows of course, I find myself having to remind myself of this more than once. If one questions their sanity should it reply? I don’t know, I do care, but I don’t have the energy to really consider it. Maybe losing my mind wouldn’t be such a terrible curse anyway, they do say that ignorance is bliss. Each hour drags by as I count every minute of it until school is over and my designated group is packed into Clyde’s car. With none of us being in a talkative mood, other than the radio the drive remains unusually silent. 

As we pull up, on the side of the road seeing as there’s no car park, the grey sky is darkening above us, fresh snow falling to add to that on the ground. My eyes find the small building at the end of a footpath; it’s name glowing in luminous letters above it. A beaten up old wagon sags on its wheels to the side of the door. All in all it’s dreary enough to blend with the weather. One by one we climb out looking around, it’s secluded to say the least, as lightning clashes, illuminating the sky above us an eerie feeling washes over me. Stan’s car starts to empty, silence is broken as the obnoxious voice of our regular asshole Cartman sounds questioning where we are. In the next moment, following another bright flash in the sky above us the damn cat starts hissing. There’s no time for questions right now. 

Ignoring both Cartman’s protests and the storm surrounding us we make our way past the wagon and inside the small pet store. My eyes widen slightly as I look around, small childlike grin threatening to form as I notice guinea pigs in the corner. Without permission my feet begin moving, trying to take me over to them, then a voice cuts through the store pulling my focus and stopping me in place.   
“Can I help you boys?”  
The clerk asks, though the way he’s eyeing the caged cat in Stan’s hand shows apprehension, something tells me he already knows the answer to his question. Pushing a smile Stan steps forwards, setting the cage on the desk.   
“I uh, I wanna return this cat.”  
As his voice trails of, anger flairs in the clerks eyes, my suspicions are confirmed as his now balled fists slam down on said desk.   
“Damn it!  
Blinking in a little in surprise I survey the others for their reactions, Butters looks ready to cry. Kyle on the other hand looks more confused than anything as he watches the man.   
“Uh, what?”  
The guys body sags a little as he throws his hands up in the air, frustration clear.   
“That's the ninth return I've had this week! What's wrong with it? Ap! Let me guess. It killed a bunch of people, right?”   
My eyes widen, jaw dropping a little as I blink at him, like seriously? You know about this? And your biggest worry is your business, what a fucking twat waffle. Stan’s mouth opens and closes, his cheeks burning as he stares up at the man, only managing a nod; which in return has him hitting the counter again, this time it’s Clyde to let out a noise suggesting his unease.   
“Damn it! Just like all the others!”

Frowning now I watch the man, not sure what the hell to make of all this. Kyle in the other hand is in reporter mode, seemingly having also used last night to devise questions.   
“Dude, why is your store called the ‘Indian burial ground pet store?’”  
The man merely blinks a little before pushing a smile and staring matter of factly.   
“Well, there was an Indian burial ground here before I bought it.”   
Swallowing a groan I pinch the bridge of my nose, great fucking idea. Stan lets out a nervous chuckle raising an eyebrow.   
“So uh, you just built your store on an Indian burial ground?”  
The man blinks briefly before quickly shaking his head.   
“Oh, hell no! First I dug up all the bodies, pissed on 'em, then buried them again upside down.”  
This time I face palm, what the actual fuck is wrong with people? I may not be entirely sure I’m insane, but I’m positive this mother fucker is. The murmurs leaving the others tells me that I’m not alone in this line of thinking. Opening and closing his mouth Stan seems to be making even less sense of this than I am, and for once I don’t think there’s much in it. All of this is completely fucking mental. Finally finding his voice, Stan manages a meek ‘Why?’, the clerics answer has me scoffing, because of fucking course.   
“Why? Well I don’t know why. I was drunk.”

For a few moments silence overtakes our group, each of us struggling for a way in which we could even possibly respond to that. Much to my surprise the first to speak is the alternate Cartman. Stepping forward he seems somewhat unsure as he clears his throat.   
“We think that when you did that, you opened up a doorway to a parallel universe.”  
I flinch a little, filling expecting the man to brush it off, tell us to stop wasting his time. To my surprise however, instead he looks thoughtful. After brief consideration, he’s nodding a little, he’s agreeing. Well damn.   
“Well, that certainly would explain a lot.”  
It would? Because that’s not concerning in the slightest. His indifference towards everything is unsettling, the voice at the back of my mind is screaming to run. Instead I ignore it, internally flip him off, and stay rooted in place, my eyes following him as he crosses the store. 

As he opens the door marked ‘employees only’, each of our head turn curiously. The moment it’s open, my eyes bulge, gasp tumbling from my lips, what I’m seeing is impossible. Shining brightly, sparkling as it swirls is a mass of bright colours, it consumes the entirety of the door frame. It’s mesmerising, otherworldly, but more than anything else it’s wrong. So fucking wrong, whatever that is? It shouldn’t exist. Squeezing my eyes closed I take steps back shaking my head, repeating to myself ‘not real, not real, not real.’ Only as my eyes blink back open it remains in place, suggesting that somehow it is real. Taking a further, more hurried step back sets in motion an entirely unpredictable and truly horrifying chain of events. I feel the meta of the cage against my back to late to stop myself. As I collide with it, it tumbles, horrified stares snap my way as the rats it contained escape. Were the door on the other side of the cage? Well I’d have paid for my mistake, instead the side they exit is next to Kenny. In the next second they’re on him, all colour drains from my face as they begin biting. His body thrashes in an attempt to throw them off, blood curdling screams echoing around the small building, and not only his.   
“Oh my god they killed Kenny!”  
“You bastards!”  
Stan and Kyle’s words ring in the air as Kenny’s lifeless body hits the floor before the rats run headfirst into the strange sparkling doorway disappearing. Heart pounding I turn and run, only just hearing the word ‘vortex’ fall from Kyle’s tongue before I’m out of the door. 

Cold air slaps me in the face as I bolt away from the building as fast as my legs will allow, Clyde beat me out and is already spilling his guts over the floor. I can hear Butters having a near nervous breakdown in my wake. But I can’t stop, my body runs as if my life own life depends on it, needing to put as much distance between myself and what just happened. Rationality is long gone, I’m on autopilot, totally focused. Until that is a familiar voice calls my name, stopping me in place. My lungs are screaming as I turn to see the alternative Tweek chasing after me as Kyle and Stan also exit the building. Only my stopping doesn’t seem to calm him; if anything it seems only to add to the amount of external panicked voices competing against my own internal one. More than one of them is running my direction now, they’re screaming something but I’m too far away to hear. Suddenly light hits me, head snapping to locate the source; headlights, they’d previously been blocked by our shoddy parking attempts. Suddenly the other guys urgency makes sense; unfortunately it’s also too late. Mere seconds after I’ve seen it the car makes contact, pain sears through my body as I fly through the air, thoughts racing. Only as I hit the floor does everything go black, internal and external voices fading away into nothingness.


	48. Chapter 48

Protruding in a variety of angles, wild with a mind of its own, sits a mop of yellow blonde hair with a straw like appearance. I know from experience however that sight is the only resemblance that it shares with straw; many times my hand has disappeared within the surprisingly silky strands; something which somehow became a comfort to us both. Pale skin, not exceptionally so, just as much as is appropriate for South Park, adorned with the odd blemish, a few stray freckles, and more often than not a blush. Hypnotic eyes with a power over me that’s beyond comprehension, and lips always shining brightly from frequently being nibbled on anxiously. Without a doubt, Tweek Tweak is the most breathtakingly beautiful thing in this town. 

I’d briefly noticed him before, in the background, more often than not due to one of his outbursts. It ashames me to realise that back then I found this to be annoying, but he kept himself to himself, thus making his actions easy enough to brush off after the initial irritation had passed. Then one day Kenny was missing, something noteworthy in itself, the day may even have be peaceful, I don’t remember. The few days following his disappearance were filled with tasks set to find his ‘replacement’ within the Fatass’ friend group. Gross right? Yeah well I went, I don’t even know why other than both Clyde and Token did, I’ll remain forever thankful for having been eliminated. The entire ordeal was dull at best and downright fucking stupid at worst. Mostly I’d simply been glad it had been over, and life returned to normal. Until that is they entered the school building with the victor. Suddenly I was more interested than I had been for the part of the process I’d been involved in. That entire day my eyes had watched Tweek attempt to navigate his place within their group. To the best of my memory? That’s when I first started watching him. 

From a distance it was too easy to see how they were manipulating him, I never got close enough to find out how. But as his twitching and screeches intensified over time, as well as happening more frequently, the unease he found for his new position was visible, at least to me. I still found myself irritated, it just seemed that the subject of my annoyance had changed. They had to be able to see what they’re doing, Kyle would at the very least be aware. It wasn’t cool, and didn’t sit right with me. The only time I can ever remember being this interested in anyone else, was actually also caused by the fatass. This kid called Thomas, hell he was fucking cool, I stand by that. The guy had Tourette’s, and young me was jealous of the freedom it seemed to imply. Still much like with Tweek at this point, I didn’t make any connections. Some guys are just cooler than others, so what if I feel compelled to do their chores for them. Whatever. 

Token was the first to catch on, of course, I was hardly subtle. Though to be fair it wasn’t unusual for me to be staring off into space during class, but my eyes were trained to the blonde boy twitching across the room from me. Even after a few comments about it, comments I’d quickly brushed off, Clyde had remained oblivious. It wasn’t until a good two months into my newfound infatuation that he caught on, and even then only because I’d not been present enough in yet another Bebe filled rambling of his. Following my gaze left him blinking confused, more so when Token let on he already knew, before merely accepting it and continuing. At that age I’m sure they thought nothing of the possible implications this held in regards for my sexuality, however I now know that it’s pretty much the same reaction they had. 

The longer I spent watching the enigma of a boy, the more familiar I became with his mannerisms, and in turn became somewhat endeared towards them, alongside being able to more easily recognise the level of anxiety accompanying them. It was fascinating, enthralling and even then on some level I could feel this was different. The longer they tortured him, the more on edge he became, after a while I was worried they’d tip him over the edge. Something I’ve heard whispers of in regards to their former friend. It’d seem no one could remember what the hell happened to Kenny. Which if you ask me now? Is sketchy as shit. Back then we all just moved on. More than once, an emotion I couldn’t recognise tugged at me, my brain told me to intervene. This of course only caused me worry, the idea of caring? It’s scary as fuck. If you care about someone then you give them power over you. So despite the clear fact that I wanted to, and the slightly less clear probability that he’d have welcomed an escape route? I didn’t. Because I’m a coward. 

As things turned out I never had too, one day he decided that enough was enough and separated from them himself. Everyone was stunned, impressed even; they’re the ‘cool’ kids, no one ditches them. I was in awe, because he had. This thin, twitchy, terrified boy had told them to go fuck themselves. Amazing. Despite this meaning his return to isolation he’d set a healthy boundary for himself, it didn’t hurt that he also thoroughly pissed Cartman off in the process. For the first time I learned that he was stronger than I’d believed. And so in showing me his own bravery, and without even realising, he inspired me to finally fight for a little of my own. When my flat voice sounded he’d jumped, wide eyed stare seeming to see into my soul. Something stirred inside, something I hadn’t understood, I’d simply pushed away. Unpracticed words tumbled from my mouth, blush coating my cheeks as I realised I was describing my admiration. Like a deer in the headlights he’d blinked unconvinced, maybe excepting this to be some kind of prank? My presence causing such unease would usually result in my own smugness, this time I simply feel.. guilty? Hell I didn’t know then, why would I now? As I trailed off, scratching at the back of my neck I changed track, inviting him instead to eat with us. The silence following the question hung thick in the air, I’d all but admitted defeat when he answered; agreed. The smile that contorted my face seemed to amuse him, eliciting a giggle. Guilt turned to pride, and for the first day of many he joined Token, Clyde and myself as we ate. 

Without any real discussion of the matter he simply became the fourth member of our friendship group. Token and Clyde both welcoming him with open arms; Tweek remaining more reserved at first. I didn’t blame him, after the previous level of crazy he’d been subjected to it wasn’t even surprising. However upon realising we were far lower key friends, he slowly, piece by piece, let down his walls. It’s funny that for the longest time, hell as long as I could remember, our trio had worked seemingly perfectly, yet upon his arrival he quickly filled a space we’d been unaware had even existed. That’s not to say that his transition went entirely smoothly, having been invested in the guy already, none of his behaviours shocked me. In fact to both of our surprise I seemed to find small ways of distracting him, pulling him back to the moment. My friends on the other hand took some time to adjust to his outbursts. Token, wise beyond his years, I have no doubt realised the deeper cause beneath the behaviours. Clyde? Well he’s simply the least judgemental person I know. As a child time seems longer than it truly is, and I still to this day swear my annoyance towards the situation seemed to last forever. Realistically it probably only lasted a week at most; and then Tweek was the fully fledged fourth member, both inside and outside of school. Young Craig, with no knowledge of the option for anything more, was completely content. 

My nose scrunches as a clinically clean smell invades my nostrils, the fuck? Slowly blinking my eyes open I’m almost blinded by the fluorescent lighting hanging above me, hissing slightly I hurriedly squeeze them back shut with a huff of annoyance. The sound of a tongue clicking echos around me, followed by a familiar chuckle. Suddenly feeling overly exposed a scowl sets in as I squint my eyes open a little to allow them to adjust. As they do so I slowly start to push to sit, or at least I try to. Instead I find a shooting pain rocketing up my right arm along with chest pains. Gritting my teeth I groan using my other hand to take most of my weight as I finally sit up. No sooner has the groan left my lips, than the chuckling intensifies.  
“I know you’re in pain, but damn that’s pretty hot.”  
Heat flares on my cheek as my middle finger salutes him. 

Squeezing my eyes closed again I frantically attempt to figure out what the hell is going on, the machines beeping beside me let me know I’m in a hospital. But why? Biting down hard on my lip I struggle to focus, only now noticing the dull pounding in my head. Just as I’m about to admit defeat the entire evening seems to play out in quick flashes. The beeping beside me increases a little in time with my heartbeat, as two clear images burn in my mind. I was hit by a car, I could have died; that’s why I’m here, that makes sense. What however is far more unsettling, is the second image. The boy in the second image did die, and it was my fucking fault. I’d watched flesh be ripped from his bones, seen the moment his body stopped twitching. Letting out an unsteady breath I slowly open my eyes fully, taking in the image of the boy at the end of my bed. He has my hospital chart in his hands, he’s flicking through it. Squeezing my eyes closed tightly I repeat ‘not real’ in my head before slowly blinking my eyes open again. I don’t know how, or if this is even real, but sat staring at me, looking amused at my confusion, is Kenny McCormick.


	49. Chapter 49

His sadistic smile only grows as my mouth drops open, eyes bulging, blinking in disbelief and trained to him. Slowly he Lifts his gaze from the chart, his eyes meet mine briefly, before I squeeze my own shut again. This is impossible; yet recently so many impossible things have happened, been rendered possible. Perhaps it’s finally time to accept that I’m insane; however, unless I’m insane enough to have imagined this entire ordeal, that doesn’t seem viable. The dull pain in my skull is beginning to pound, only as my breathing increases do I feel the sharp stabbing in my chest. Maybe I’m dead and this is hell? 

Ignoring my inner turmoil, Kenny breaks through my thought barrier as he begins reading off of my chart.   
“Hmm, nice work. Scalp laceration, dislocated shoulder, two broken ribs and a nasal fracture. I mean I still won, but that’s still fairly impressive.”   
He won? I’d been unaware we were in some sort of battle to the death. Sucking in a deep breath as my mouth forms a tight line, proves to be a mistake. Broken ribs and all, idiot. A pained groan slips as I let the air out, opening my eyes to study the boy at the end of the bed. His smirk has only grown, he’s loving every fucking minute of this.   
“Yeah broken ribs tend to hurt.”  
Rolling my eyes a little I move to flip him off, only to find my right arm uncooperative. As a fresh groan tumbles from my lips he begins to laugh.   
“Dislocated shoulder.”   
He’s annoying enough, he needs to have used the sing song tone. Throwing him a glare I growl softly; I fucking know! Just, everything is fuzzy, blurred. Hell I don’t even know!” Before instead saluting him with the middle finger of my left hand instead. Of course this is Kenny McCormick, thus he doesn’t give a fucking shit, smirk never faltering.   
“Oh yeah, also, you can’t see it, but damn your face is pretty, good job.”  
He is far too fucking happy. Scowl deepening I growl through gritted teeth. “How the fuck are you here?!”

His manic laughter fills the air, squeezing my eyes closed I grimace, fresh waves of pain flowing through my skull as the sound penetrates it. Reaching up with my good hand I rub my temple in hopes of alleviating it at least a little, in the process I find hardened blood in places there should be skin. I hadn’t truly doubted him, Kenny is a lot of things, but not generally a liar. As his giggles finally fade off I blink my eyes back open in time to see him put I finger to his lips.   
“Shh, you’ll wake him.”  
Him? My head snaps round to the direction of his nod, eyes rolling back I let out a pained hiss. Shit, I guess they’ll be adding neck problems to that fucking list. Gritting my teeth I push it back and force my face to remain neutral, not wanting to give Kenny the satisfaction which seems to accompany my pain, and turn slower this time. As my eyes settle on the boy slumped asleep in the chair beside my bed, it’s almost as if something tugs at my heart. A small chuckles slips my lips as a smile starts to form, I’m luckier than I know to have him.   
“He hasn’t left once, not even to eat.”  
Slowly I turn back to Kenny, not even trying to hide the smile as I shrug. “Clyde’s like that.”

Im almost sure I saw sadness in his eyes as he’d shrugged at the statement, I hadn’t cared enough to ask though. Instead I find myself struggling to remember what we had previously been discussing, before Clyde I mean; but it’s as if it’s fallen from my mind entirely. Sighing I give up and try again, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” This time I am sure of the emotion, the usually secretive boy for once gives himself away. His eyebrows shoot up as his eyes bulge, hell his jaw even drops a little; surprise, damn. Quickly he tries to cover it, but the damage is done. And as he tries to brush it off, a faint, rare blush dances across his cheeks. Feeling a smirk tug at my own lips I think to myself that it’s a strange old world, oh how the tables have turned. However Kenny merely rolls his eyes in response, setting down the chart he shrugs.   
“Fine I’ll tell you, you won’t remember anyway. No one ever does. Hell I’d put money on you not remembering any of this next time you wake up.”  
My eyebrow arches questioningly, the way he’s speaking? Well it’d make this seem a regular occurrence. Thoughts flash nonsensically, my tired, weary and bruised mind entirely incapable of keeping up with them. Instead I let out a breath, deciding to just listen, and signal for him to continue. Nodding a little, shrugging in a manner I take to mean: you asked for it, he begins.   
“I can't die. I've experienced death, countless times. Sometimes I see a bright light. Sometimes I see heaven. Or hell. But eventually, no matter what, I wake up in my bed, wearing my same old clothes. And the worst part? Nobody even remembers me dying. I go to school the next day, and everyone is just like, "Oh hey Kenny." Even if they had seen me get decapitated with their own eyes.”  
As he trails off, his gaze leaves mine; though not before I see that the sadness has returned. A small part of my frail mind suggests that it’s be appropriate to comfort him, I ignore this. His words swirl in my mind, much in the same manner of the vortex earlier. Neither are possible, yet his tone, his words, they seem to hold so much candour. Something within me believes him, despite the ridiculousness of the concept. Regardless it’s too much, my recently damaged mind cannot cope. About to give up, I’m pulled back in as his words cut through my thoughts.   
“There was one time when I thought it was forever. That time I seemed doomed to wander beside everyone unnoticed. Watched life go on without me, remain forever a spectator. That in itself could have been a kind of hell you know? Because everything did go on as usual. I saw them replace me, my friends; so easily. I started watching him when you did you know? And that’s when I started watching you too. Why it’s always been so interesting.”  
The smile on his face shows he means well, holds no true malice. Unfortunately this does little to sooth my unease. 

Frowning a little I sigh heavily squeezing my eyes closed. There are so many things I’d like to say in response, yet nothing comes. Head spinning I start to lay back, reaching to pinch the bridge of my nose. Neither my mind nor body are capable of fully engaging in this, no matter how much I’d like too. Sleep has become a compelling temptress, calling out to me. But Kenny made it clear that this is a one time deal. Forcing my heavy eyes back open, ignoring the questions I have, I simply push him to speak further. “And this time?” He blinks looking thoughtful before chuckling shrugging, obviously impressed with how well I’m taking this; well, how well I’m presenting myself to be anyway.   
“I floated for a bit, I was there longer than you anyway. But I’m back now.”  
His tone is so matter of fact, that in itself being a complete oxymoron when compared with his words. My already pained head hurts more with every attempt to rationalise what it’s been told, instead I merely nod a little. Besides the piece which remains able to focus of my mind has latched onto one part: he was there longer than I was. The beeping beside me speeds up as the machine measures my heart rate, mouth going dry, I look back to him. “Wh-What happened?”

Narrowing my eyes on the boy I use each shred of my remaining energy to focus as he explains. Each individual part of me seeming to throb with its own pain by now, guess whatever meds I’m on are running out. Heat flares on my face as reactions towards my own accident. I don’t care, hell I guess I do; but I don’t want to hear it, at least not from Kenny. As his explanation progressed I became more invested, my accident had somewhat thrown a spanner in the works with Tweek’s alternate; he hadn’t wanted to leave me. Luckily some quick thinking and talking from Kyle had convinced him. A pang of regret stabs as I realise I never got to say goodbye; not to either version. A small gasp leaves my lips as I hear that the second part of the plan was also successful. Holy shit we got rid of Cartman, the murderous animals too. Only that’s where the story ended. We gave up our offerings and received nothing in return. As my worst fear is realised, that my Tweek hasn’t returned, I almost wish the car had been going a little faster, I’d hit my head a little harder, I hadn’t fucking woken up. Mind and body both give out in defeat, and as I sink back into the bed my thoughts mangle. The one silver lining is the fatass being gone resurfaces in the front of my mind, as if in some attempt of self preservation. “I better not be dreaming.” The words leave my mouth mumbled as consciousness begins to slip away again. Clucking his tongue Kenny chuckles, thinking I’m already out cold.   
“If this was a dream you’d have imagined me in a nurses uniform. I’ll see you when you don’t remember Craig.”


	50. Chapter 50

Time is a strange concept. Ever present and ever moving; nothing and no one can stop it. Even if you stop, be it permanently or temporarily, it continues. Time passes around you, minutes, hours and days. Yet like a living breathing time capsule you remain locked in place. When you’re waiting for something it appears to slow down, it seems to drag itself out; when you want it to slow down it seems to pass in the blink of an eye. Everyone experiences this. Yet when you’re not conscious it becomes stranger still. It neither hastens nor slows, it ceases to exist. And in that moment? You’ve defeated the social construct that is time. 

Blinking my eyes open I let out a groan, my head feels like it’s going to explode, without a thought my hand flies out in an attempt to bat at the alarm clock. Only instead I’m met with fresh pain at the movement. In the moment my fingertips graze over something which most definitely isn’t my alarm clock, my head snaps in confusion and has me hissing in fresh pain, curses falling. Why the fuck does everything hurt? Frown now etched into my brow I finally start to survey the room, mostly white, clinical smell, fantastic. I fucking hate hospitals.   
“Craig?”  
My eyes dart to the source, widening a little before relaxing upon finding my mother alone. As our eyes meet I see her own begin to fill with tears as a grin forms. 

After an awkward hug, she’d pulled back to explain why I’m here. I’d found my memory pretty foggy, but as she spoke snippets returned, I could see the headlights shining within my mind still. Fuck, that was seriously close. Once she had registered that I’d caught up she went on to explain my injuries; though strangely I find my mind saying the words before they’ve even left her mouth, almost as if I’ve heard them before. Apparently the few times I’ve come round before I have been so medicated that I’d been unaware, also apparently I’ve lost two days. Well fuck. With my good hand I reach to rub my temple, having received a lot of information in a short span of time,my fragile head is struggling to keep up, and from the look on my mothers face? It’s only just begun. 

Perching on the edge of my bed she reaches out to run her fingers through my unusually hatless hair, making care to avoid the stitches, as she had when I was a child. She looks tired, and not the kind that sleep can fix, I’m sure part of that can be attributed to me, but not all. Letting out a heavy sigh she looks away before speaking.   
“Your fathers gone.”  
Her voice is unsteady, holds emotions I cannot fathom, though I think there’s relief in there. He’s gone? That could mean any number of things, and I’m not sure whether I should believe any of them. My silence must have been unanticipated, as after a few moment pass she returns her eyes to me. Studying her face I search for a lie yet find none. Eyebrow raising I urge her silently to continue, and she complies.   
“It was the night you were hit, though I didn’t know about that then. He- h-he was so drunk, he went for Ruby.”  
As her words trail off my eyes bulge, rage flooding through me, tears pool again in her eyes, her self blame is evident. That fucking asshole.   
“I-I stopped him, I finally called the police. Something I should have done a long time ago.”  
Now her eyes shine apologetically, but she still can’t say the words.   
“H-he left before they got there, but it was a good job really as they didn’t show. When I called back they told me that officer Barbrady was missing, and the other officers were busy with a hit and run. I-I had no idea it was you.”  
Squeezing my eyes shut I frown in concentration, hit and run? Damn the car didn’t stop?  
“Clyde called me the next morning and I was straight here. Where I spoke to the police, your father can’t come home Craig. It’s over.”  
The headlights are still shining in my mind, all other coherent thought blinded by them; yet something beyond them, the shadowy shape, is familiar 

There’s a clock on the wall opposite my bed, as she’d given me space and silence I’d watched the time pass. Yet it hasn’t registered, the numbers merely blur with the mess that is my memory, if I don’t know what day it is then what does the hour really matter anyway? Ignoring it I search my mind for what seems lost, yet come up blank. Something is missing, something big, but what? So self consumed and confused I hadn’t even noticed her movement, let alone her leaving. Only as two overly excited squeals invade my eardrums in totally different pitches, making me grimace, am I pulled back to the moment. Within seconds my sister is carefully climbing up beside me, excitedly cherping about how happy she is that I’m awake. Clyde on the other hand, rather predictably I must say, shows his happiness by bursting into tears whilst pulling me into a tight, painful embrace; I don’t fight it, but as pained groans leave my smaller frame he pulls back with a blush wiping at his eyes. Cheesy grin contorting his face, his eyes find mine.   
“Man, I was so fuc—“   
Eyes bulging as he remembers Ruby’s presence, something he seriously needn’t worry about, he changes track.   
“Uhhh ducking worried. Never do that to me again!”  
Rolling my eyes I flip him off, “right, I’m so sorry for your pain.”

My mother had returned, remained content to watch the three of us, well, mostly the two of them, chat happily. Everyone seems so full of joy that I’ve finally regained consciousness, yet there remains an odd nagging feeling that this isn’t the first time. Should that be correct? The memory is currently lost at the very least. Despite the close proximity I’ve found myself in, and Clyde’s repetitive elbow blows to my bruised side, I find myself more than content in their company, and truly full of love for the pair. I mean it could be the meds talking, but we’ll never know. Time passes in a blur, and an undetermined amount later a doctor enters, leading my mother outside to talk. There are two people missing, mentally I scold myself for my own stupidity in taking so long to realise, Tweek and Token. As my memory quickly flashes back I let out a small sigh in realising it isn’t so strange that Token isn’t here, though that doesn’t make it hurt any less. Noticing my unease from my facial expressions alone, Clyde reaches into his pocket, handing a crumpled note to Ruby before sending her to the vending machine. A blush creeps across my cheeks as I meet his eyes, “Tweek?” His name leaves my lips in little more than a pleading whisper, no words are returned as his face falls, head hanging as he shakes it. Squeezing my eyes closed I bite down hard on my bottom lip, feeling myself tearing up. Where the fuck are you?!

As it turns out, Clyde followed behind the ambulance containing me, and therefore is unable to give me a personal account of how everything unfolded. Kyle however has kept in touch, let him know what happened and in turn been requesting updates on me; something Clyde is just realising he failed to do. Everyone and everything we intended to send through the vortex, was sent. Yet nothing returned. The one thing I’d been clinging to being solved still remains not, and I’m shit out of ideas for what to do. As Clyde pulls out his phone to fill Kyle in, my mother returns wearing a large smile.   
“Well, you have to take it easy, no strenuous tasks, but you can come home.”  
Her eyes bore into me, her excitement clear. Ignoring my own hollow heart, I plaster a fake one to my own face in return. 

Climbing into the car I let out a heavy sigh, resting my head to the window, Ruby’s childish chatter fills the air, but my mother doesn’t start the car. Raising my eyebrow questioningly I turn to find her holding something familiar, and that I’d long accepted was lost, seemingly unsure she’s gnawing at her bottom lip.   
“I um, I found this in your fathers jacket when I washed it a few days ago.”  
A small gasp leaves my lips as my hand wraps around my phone, taking it from her. The screen is shattered, hell it makes Clyde’s look good as new, yet as I press the power button it turns on, lighting up. The minutes it takes to fully start draw out, allowing my mother to pull away unworried about my reaction. Only once it does, it all but explodes. Variations of buzzes and beeps begin to sound as notifications fly through. His name flashing again and again, alerting me to attempted calls and texts alike. Tweek. With each my heart beat increases, my phone seems to be overloaded, everything is taking longer than usual to load and fucking open. My patience is wearing thin by the time I have the damn message thread open, scrolling frantically to the beginning. 

The last night I saw him was incredible. Everything I’d ever wanted, yet never even realised. But when it’d been cut short by my asshole alcoholic father I’d not even said goodbye. Furthermore I’d decided not to go back in aims of protecting him. But he never asked for protection, and fuck I wish I hadn’t. If I could go back I’d turn and run straight to his arms. The first message just tells me that he hopes I’m okay after having dropped my phone and wallet to my father. My jaw clenches at the thought of how that must have gone down. Somehow I find myself loathing my father further still. The silver lining here being that he messaged me after, hopefully that means it’s not as terrible as I’m thinking. Guess that also explains how my wallet got to my room, was the asshole seriously just trying to make it so I couldn’t talk to my boyfriend? Like somehow that’s magic the gay away or something? Jesus fucking Christ. 

The second message slows my heart right down, mouth going dry I feel winded. The very next day, he left town. Time is a strange concept that can at any point run out. That day, his grandmother’s time was up. Given all the extremely abnormal events I’ve been a part of recently, I’d somehow counted out the most rational of possibilities, his disappearance isn’t supernatural at all, in fact death? Well it’s the most natural experience of all. Frantically speed reading I find my heart pulling at me, guilt flooding through. He’d needed me, truly needed me. And I hadn’t been there. Of course I can say the same damn thing back but that isn’t his fault. In a way I worry maybe my father did succeed, at least in some capacity. Though as I reach the bottom, finding the last message marked the day of my accident, my breath catches. He’s back. 

As my grip tightens around my phone and my teeth grit I consider texting or calling. Neither is good enough. “I need to go to Tweek’s.” The words leave my lips as a statement before I’ve even decided to say it. My mother’s eyes dart to me then back to the road as she starts to shake her head.   
“Craig, honey, you need to rest. We’re going home.”  
Squeezing my eyes closed I take a deep breath, trying desperately to keep my cool, and only just managing. “No. I need to see him. One way or another I will, but I don’t really feel like climbing out of my window right now.”  
It was a low blow, her cheeks flush scarlet, eyes trained to the road, but even from the corner I can read her guilt. Swallowing back a sigh she simply nods, taking the next turn, taking me to him.


	51. Chapter 51

My mother is far more level headed than I am right now, and as such the fact she’s sticking to the speed limit is driving me crazy. Given that I’ve been in an accident recently it’s completely rational of her, but right now I’m not rational. Were I driving? I’m sure I’d be speeding and ignoring stop signs, probably one of the reasons I can’t actually drive. Instead I grit my teeth, resting my read back as I squeeze my eyes closed, and attempt to will time to speed up. Which I’m aware is entirely pointless. 

As each minute passes I’m closer to him, my head my heart, my throat and stomach are all in a knot. There is so much that needs to be said, most of which I’m sure will only cause him panic. It was hard enough for me to comprehend for fucks sake. Where the hell to even start? And that’s not even getting into the Kyle shit. Yet despite all that, and the mess it entails, mostly I’m drunk with excited anticipation towards the prospect of seeing him, holding him. Everything is so conflicted and my thoughts still aren’t up to their usual speed, I feel like a remote control who’s batteries are running low, I get there eventually but it’s frustrating as hell. My breath catches as we pass his parents coffee store, the lights are on, that’s promising. Gripping the door handle I take deep breaths, which in turn hurts my ribs and has me instead focusing on physical pain. Good god I’m a mess. 

What feels like hours yet is merely minutes later we pull up. The second the car has stopped I’m opening the door, ignoring the conflict present in my mothers eyes as she watches me.  
“Just a couple of hours okay?”  
Her tone is pleading, eyes wide and burning into me, with a small sigh I simply nod once, and then again when she promises to call me when she’s picking me up. I don’t care. And until I was hit by a car neither did she. Once she seems satisfied I turn and walk up to the door, squeezing my eyes closed and hesitating before bringing my knuckles down to knock once.

The lights are on, there’s someone in that much is clear. My heartbeat is accompanied by the echo of my knock, ringing in my ears as I wait. Eventually my eyes blink open in time with the door, alerted by a creaking sound. Letting go of a breath I’d been unaware I was holding I push a smile at his wide eyed mother and attempt to keep my voice to stay steady.  
“H-hey, is Tweek here?”  
Stepping back to let me inside she merely nods a little, mouth hanging slightly agape.  
“Craig dear, are you okay? Do you need some coffee?”  
It takes a hell of a lot of will power to stifle the laugh, of course she’d think coffee was the answer, why hadn’t the doctors thought of that? Instead I shake my head, smile still in place though no longer forced, “no thank you.” Tutting a little in disapproval she nods before returning to the front room, shaking my head I start towards the stairs, this feels right. 

The familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee laces the air, welcomingly invading my nostrils; my mother had insisted I should go home, it feels that I have. Anticipation rising and patience wearing thin, my pace increases, though not to my usual speed which is irritating; my wounded body is neither willing nor able to comply. His bedroom door, coming into view, is cracked open. Not fully, but enough for me to see- well not see I suppose, the floor. Given what I now know was to him: my disappearance, it’s unsurprising that his thoughts would be cluttered, and in turn his room mirrors this. Guilt stabs at me briefly, yet only momentarily before a buzz of excitement pushes it aside. This is real, this is him. Tweek, my Tweek. A cheesy grin which could rival Clyde’s plasters itself to my face as I reach out pushing the door further open; I don’t even attempt to hide it. 

My pushing has little effect, I clearly underestimated the amount of items cluttering the floor, however given my recent weight loss it’s easy enough to slip inside; at least there’s one use for it. The lack of response at my entry has my smile faltering, my eyes hastily darting around the room until they land on him. Head in hands, fingers tangled messily in his hair, he sits at his desk muttering to himself, far too focused to have registered my presence. The ball of guilt is back, bouncing around my stomach and making me nauseas. Nipping on my bottom lip I take a breath studying him, every twitch is so familiar, exhaling deeply I try to keep my voice gentle so as not to startle him. “Tweek?”

The sharp shriek he admits has me grimace momentarily, eyes squeezing shut, but the pain in my head can’t subdue the smile which reforms. Any ounce of remaining doubt has been vanquished, I’d know that yelp anywhere. Of course the sound, which is followed by a bang from him falling off of his seat, means that I failed. Blinking my eyes back open they find his, disbelief shines in the forefront, questioning hurt in the back. Regardless, the pain in his eyes could never disguise the light that was there before. My cheeks ache a little as my grin grows, I can read him. Confusion knots in his brow as a small smile forms before dropping, horrified stare replacing it as he hastily pushes to stand, then makes his way as quickly as he can towards me.  
“Ngh! Wh-What happened?!”  
My cheeks flush, words failing me, without waiting for an answer his arms wrap around me pulling me into a crushing hug. Any other time I’d willing have accepted this, fuck it, even now I want to, yet the sudden pressure has me letting out a yelp of my own as pain pulses through me. The unusual sound has him jumping, the top of his head making contact with my jaw, another yelp follows, shit this could go on a while. 

Eventually we both managed to take a step back, yet keep our hands entangled. My free hand attempts to reach up and rub my jaw, however more pain stops it in its tracks, a deeper blush creeps across my cheeks as an unfamiliar whine tumbles from my lips. In the next instant his hand finds the spot, caressing it gently; somehow without words he knew. Leaning into his touch I let my smile return, looking over him I note that his shirt is buttoned incorrectly, as it was when we were kids. Another clear sign of his anxiety, yet somehow in this moment he is able to push it away to instead focus on me. He truly is remarkable. Aware that his question remains unanswered, I instead pull him closer, leaning down to press my lips softly to his. 

Light and tender kisses soon deepened with need, entangled hands griping tightly until I nip softly at his bottom lip. The moan that tumbles is intoxicating, and has my entire body humming. Pulling back a little with a smirk our eyes lock in understanding, our hands disconnect, moving instead to remove clothes. Words can wait. Where his movements are fast and precise, my own hands are fumbling, only one complying and it’s not even my fucking dominant. Impatience rises as I struggle, grumbling softly at my own incompetence. A small chuckle leaves his lips as my pants drop and he in turn realises I’m failing, taking over without a word, instead I focus on getting my shirt off and over my somewhat lame arm as he completes my previous task. Unsurprisingly he finishes before me, a triumphant grin sits on my lips as my shirt hits the floor, yet as my eyes return to his frame, finding now the only item to be remaining being his boxers, my jaw drops as a small gasp slips. “Wow.”

Unfortunately my own body is far less to marvel over right now, his lips remain slightly upturned, but a frown crosses his brow as he takes in my now skinner frame along with the cuts and bruises adorning it. Suddenly my comfort is faltering, does he finally see me as grotesquely as I see myself? Chewing nervously on my bottom lip, my arms begin to slide around my torso in an attempt to hide it. Were this anyone else the moment would truly be lost, as it is I’m ignoring the voice telling me to run, the moment is fading and I’m starting to spiral. Fuck. Squeezing my eyes closed I wish I could just disappear. Then in the next second his lips make contact with my collar bone, causing my whole body to shudder as I crash back into the moment. Letting his fingertips graze over my arms, and in so persuading them to begin to loosen, he peppers soft kisses along my collar bone before recapturing my lips. And just like that I know I’m safe. As my arms fully unfold he reaches for them, again lacing our fingers before slowly pulling me back towards the bed. 

As his legs hit the side I smirk watching him fall back a little, until that is he sits up returning one of his own and pulling me into his lap. I wince softly, but ignore it, fuck the pain, fuck ‘no strenuous activity’, fuck anything that isn’t this. My lips crash heavily back to his, the kiss is harsh and messy, but filled with need from both sides. Completely focused on him, I’m only half aware as he removes our final layers, until that is his hand wraps around me. In that moment I lose focus entirely, and the moan I let out shows it. Resting my forehead to his I moan beginning to slowly rock my hips against his hand, oh holy shit I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed this. Digging my nails into his biceps I groan as I begin to feel him hardening below me, suddenly I want more; isn’t that human nature at its best? Moans of want and need, mutters of ‘please’ in a begging tone only he has ever heard leave my lips, readily he complies, and within seconds and with minimal movement his freshly lubed fingers run over my entrance, readying me before entering. 

My eyes squeeze closed as I push down to meet them, holding my breath as I allow him to add another, moaning softly as they curl within me before whimpering as they’re removed.  
My cheeks burn as I press my lips to his in aims of removing the smirk, as his tongue darts over my lips his hand moves to allow him to line himself up, moaning into his mouth as our tongues meet I begin to push down slowly, it still fucking hurts, but so does everything right now; and nothing else hurts this good. Synchronised moans echo around the room as he pushes up to meet me. Breaking the kiss I rest my forehead to his, nails digging in tighter still to his arms as I take steady breaths. His own breathing is hitched, inside me I feel him twitch, letting me know his own pause is taking restraint. Loosening my grip a little I open my eyes, looking into his as I nod, relief and thankfulness flash adorably through his eyes before a grin forms. 

Our lips meet again as he slowly begins to move up to me, his own moans tumbling as he does. As he begins to pick up speed my own hips begin to move against him, in turn my own moans match his, the pain in my body is long forgotten as pleasure takes over. Mouths locking muffles the sound some as we speed up, our bodies moving in time with a rhythm that that in any other scenario is unthinkable, time around us is forgotten. There is nothing but this. His moans are becoming less spaced out, breath has caught more than once, smirking against his lips I buck my hips down to him. Breaking the kiss he moans out loudly before wrapping his hand around my cock, rubbing it now in time with his thrusts. Squeezing my eyes closed and dropping my head back I let out a long moan; I’m trapped in the most wonderful way, no matter what way I move it’s stimulating. My breath catches as it builds before I let out a stifled cry, coming completely undone, and coating both of our stomachs in the process. Each further thrust has another moan tumble, blinding pleasure blending with pain until he’s panting, letting out his own cry, and I feel him release inside me. 

We’d remained in place, foreheads connected as we both recaptured our breath. Slowly we’d managed to disconnect and lay down with only minimal pain on my end. Wrapped up in his arms, with his body pressed against my back I’m happier than I can remember having been in the longest time, listening to him talk about taking care of me, playing nurse if you like. Suddenly his voice fades out as my mind blurs, images of Tweek in a nurses uniform flash in my mind. I mean, it’s still hot but it’s weird to see him in women’s clothes. Only the image blurs again before refocusing, and suddenly everything makes both more and less sense. Kenny in a nurses uniform. What the fuck?


	52. Chapter 52

The bizarre images were pushed aside, banished to the back of my mind for me to contemplate later. Right now, in a place that feels like home, with his arms wrapped around me, his form pressed against me, and his breath on my neck, nothing else matters. Whatever pain medication I’m on? It’s wearing off, and on top of that I’m pretty sure I’ll soon be paying for having ignored doctors advise, but he’s worth every ache. Pressing myself back against him further, as if in some impossible attempt to lose myself within him completely and blur the lines which separate us, I let out a small happy sigh, smile pulling at my lips as his lips graze my neck. Letting my eyes slip closed I actually let out a small hum of content, which is cheesy as fuck I know. 

Every action however, has a reaction. My obvious signs of approval to his actions had of course caused new ones, and in the next moment as he squeezes me slightly, my chest is on fire. As a long low pained groan tumbles from mine, his body goes rigid, hurriedly pulling away. Even with the sharp physical pains currently assaulting me, the feeling of his body leaving mine leaves a fresh wound, and without meaning to I’m whining. Good god, what is wrong with me? The slight rhythmic movement to the lower half of the bed alerts me to the fact his leg is shaking; he’s anxious. Taking a deep breath I bite down on my lip before attempting to roll over to face him, and after a few tries, curses and yelps I’m successful. With my good hand I reach up, thumb grazing his cheek softly before my fingers push through his hair slowly. Squeezing my eyes closed I grin at the familiar soft and silky feeling before blinking them back open to meet his questioning ones.   
“Ugh, wh-what happened? W-why are you all beat up?!”  
Questions can only go unanswered so long, lost in the moment he’d managed to push it aside, but of course it was always going to return. I am not known for my tact, generally perceived as blunt and uncaring; Tweek is the exception. So as I look into his panic stricken eyes, I try, I really fucking try, and it pains me when I’m unable to come up with a less stressful answer than the truth. “I um, I got hit by a car.”

I had predicted his reaction perfectly. Wide saucer like eyes almost glazing over, body stiffening as he sits bolt up right, my hand tumbling from his hair immediately replaced by both of his own, only they’re tugging at it. The volume of his scream has fresh waves of pain roll though my head.   
“WHAT?! Oh Jesus Christ! You could’ve died!”  
Squeezing my eyes closed again in an attempt to combat said pain I take a small breath, fingertips reaching to lightly graze over his lower back. “Tweek, honey it’s okay. I didn’t. I’m here.”  
Despite the conversational tone, my touch has him shiver, and I suppose also reiterates my point. It’s something justifiable to freak out over, but regardless I’m alive and here. Tracing over his skin softly I let him have a moment to himself, though still reminding him that he isn’t alone. And within minutes he’s repositioned himself beside me, the unease in his eyes shines clearly as I look up at him. “I’m here Tweek, I’m okay, just a little sore.” His brow furrows, letting me know that he remains unconvinced towards my level of downplay, but fuck, would it really help to give details? I don’t think he’d like the idea of a coma. Chewing anxiously on his already chapped lips, he studies my face, frowning a little before letting out a heavy sigh.   
“Fine. But ngh! Don’t ever do that again?!”  
Blinking a little, I bite down on the insides on my cheeks to stifle the laugh and instead lean to press my lips softly to his as a grin forms. What he’s asked is impossible, but I understand it. “I’ll try babe.”

Though facing the other way now, I once again find myself wrapped up in his arms, the one of mine which is a willing participant mirroring this. Forehead resting against his chest, my eyes slip closed again. I want to stay awake, to savour every moment as I know for sure he won’t join me in slumber at this time of day, but I can’t. Whether its mind or body I’m not sure, regardless sleep takes over. It comes on far easier than I’d expected and writhing minutes I’m out cold, allowing thoughts which had earlier been pushed aside, the space to resurface. 

The vision of Kenny McCormick that my subconscious mind has managed to conjure, dressed in a female nurses uniform, wears an expression which is far too smug for my liking. Almost mocking? Hell its like he expected this.   
“If this were a dream you’d have imagined me in a nurses uniform.”  
The words sound, but the visions mouth doesn’t move, instead that smarmy smirk sits still in place. As if the words are separate entirely from the dream, being processed by a different part of my mind. Memory perhaps? Is that possible?  
“I can’t die.”  
This time my eyes never left the figure which I can now only assume is mocking me. And still it’s his fucking voice but it didn’t come from this version. Shaking my head I sigh rolling my eyes. “Everyone dies.” The unmistakable tongue cluck echos around the room, only this time it is from the vision before me, which now seems even more smug. Even fake versions of this asshole are annoying as shit.   
“I’ve experienced death multiple times.”  
And that one wasn’t him. Why the fuck are there two of him? Oh god please don’t tell me another turned up while I was out cold?

“And this time?”  
My blood runs cold, that voice was mine. This is unlike any dream I’ve ever had before and it’s fucking weird. Literally makes zero sense, and is slightly disconcerting.   
“I floated for a bit, I was there longer than you anyway. But I’m back now.”  
Him again. A conversation I’m somehow both a part of, and listening to from the sidelines. So many gaps within this need filling in, yet my unease only grows as I seem able to do so without the help of these voices. This time? What time? Scrunching my face I struggle to navigate through my foggy recent memory. Something happened at the pet store, other than my own incident I mean. But what? As my heart begins racing a sense of dread begins to take over. Logically I’m aware that a coma will do that, mess with your memory I mean. But a sinking feeling in the depths of my stomach suggests to me that instead my memory is purposefully blocking something. Some kind of self preservation or something. Mentally I tell t to fuck off, I’d rather just know. However as usual my mind remains unwilling to comply. 

Throwing my hands up in frustration I sigh as I blink my eyes back open, and in that moment I regret everything. I’d be near willing to beg to go back. Never know. Cold chills run down my spine, hairs standing on end as my jaw drops. I feel the blood leave my cheeks, eyes bulging as every part of my being screams at me to run. Only I can’t, I’m locked in this nightmare; forced to watch. My memory shows flashes, relenting and giving some answers in the moment I’ve realised I may have been better without them. Swirling colours fill a doorway impossibly, my step backwards in reaction. Hell I practically feel the metal of the cage upon my back. And the Kenny before me no longer wears a dress. Instead he lays lifeless in a pool of blood, flesh torn from his limbs and surrounded by rats. I did that. Oh my god, I fucking killed Kenny.   
“I can’t die.”  
I can’t focus anymore, rational thought is lost. So I consider it. This has been different, not like a dream. More like a memory. Is this a memory?

With a heavy groan I’m pulled from sleep by my again anxious looking lover.   
“C-Craig.. your mom is here. She says you have to go home.”  
A louder groan follows with a mutter of ‘for fuck sake’, before my eyes soften a little, I feel I was in the middle of something important? But fuck it, he’s more important, and about the only thing that’d make returning home tolerable. “Come with me?”


	53. Chapter 53

Though he’d agreed, his unease at the prospect is completely clear. Not only in his mannerisms: twitching, chewing relentlessly on his lip and pulling at his hair. But moreover this has been mirrored in his appearance, shirt buttoned incorrectly as it had been when we were children. Surprisingly I find it rather endearing; it’s nostalgic. With several grunts and curses I also manage to manoeuvre myself out of the bed, and get mostly dressed alone. Once stuck half in and out of my shirt, and cursing at it more than ever, he’d been distracted from his own distress by mine. With still twitching hands he helpes me into it. Feeling both thankful and mortified at my own inability I flash him a smile which is accompanied by burning cheeks, before leaning to press a soft kiss to his lips, “my dad is gone.” The words caused a gasp, his blinking confused eyes finding mine as he pulls back. All I can offer as an answer is a shrug, he’s just gone, I don’t know where and I don’t fucking care. Confusion has fully taken over, and with it his twitching has stopped. 

When we both arrive downstairs, fingers interlocked, the look on my mothers face tells me that she already knew that this was coming. Clearly she knows me better than I thought. Pushing my exhaustion and pain aside I fight to keep my face neutral, and more announce that Tweek is coming with us than asked. A small sigh slips her lips, I’m not sure if she knowns that she won’t win or is just damn tired of fighting, regardless she relents and agrees. A small upturn from the corner of my mouth kills my neutral stare without permission as simultaneously a shriek of relief leaves the boy beside me. Squeezing his hand I give in, allow my emotions permission to shine, treating my mother to a rare full smile instead, “thanks.” As we walk out to the car I feel somewhat hopeful for the future, relieved that she’d agreed, but also like a fucking asshole for doing that to her. This whole caring about multiple people thing is getting old. Leaning into Tweek’s side as she drives I let my eyes squeeze closed, small sigh slipping. It’s a kind of personal growth I suppose? One that comes with time. Most people care a whole lot more than I do in general. About both things and people. Though, recently my circle has certainly been expanding, given the amount of time I’ve spent recently with Kenny, Stan and Kyle. Kyle. Fuck, fuck fuck. I need to tell him. 

Upon arriving home we’d both been welcomed enthusiastically by my sister. Out of my whole family she’s the only one who ever warmed to Tweek, though that could be to do with the fact that he once taught her how to make cupcakes. For weeks after I was stuck eating her burned or undercooked attempts, until that is when she finally mastered it; then she’d only wanted Tweek to try. But I hadn’t minded; if I care for someone it’s appear that my tolerance highly increases. Besides other than them right now, the only other person I hold this level of care for is Clyde. This in turn causes a realisation: that Token has fallen from the list, and it hits like a stab in the heart. In some ways things are expanding, in others they have shrunk. Growing up fucking sucks. And shit, Tweek doesn’t know about that yet either. As my sister chatters away happily to the pair of us, my mother moves to get my medication, and for that I’m thankful. Maybe I can block one kind of pain if I’m lucky. 

Satisfied I’d taken it, and more than likely able to read my exhaustion, my mother allows us to retreat to my room, to my surprise she doesn’t even tell me to keep the door open. I don’t need telling twice, and with another squeeze of my lovers hand I begin to steer him towards the stairs. As we enter my room I find my eyes scanning it, there are items missing, I have no doubt given the broken photo frame I saw last time I was home, that my father is behind the reason why. With a roll of my eyes I tell myself that said items can be replaced, and instead allow my eyes to light up at the one thing which has returned since I was last here. Chirping away as if in response to our entrance, Stripe and his cage are back. Exhaustion is long forgotten as suddenly I feel more childlike with the level of excitement pumping through me, with a few long steps I’m beside the cage and reaching in to scoop him out, nuzzling the top of his head with my chin as I hold him to my chest and breathing in his unique scent. God I’ve missed him so fucking much. I’m only pulled from my bubble as Tweek’s melodic laughter cuts through the air, blushing a little I raise my eyebrow questioningly at him, shrugging he smiles in response.  
“You’re adorable too sometimes you know.”

With still burning cheeks I’d merely shrugged, passed Stripe over to Tweek, and moved to lower myself into my bed whilst I watched them. Hopefully these pills fucking kick in soon. Laying here, watching the two things I care most deeply for together does however provide some sort of therapeutic relief. Everything seems right for the first time in ages. I could happily lose myself in the moment and let go of everything else, yet I can’t. So much still needs to be said; the churning in my stomach suggests that as things begin coming out, any kind of happiness will smash like glass. Squeezing my eyes closed I sigh softly, letting everything that needs to be said run through my mind in an attempt to decide an order. Rip off the bandaid fast? Start with that I fear most? Fuck, who am I kidding, I’m too much of a fucking coward for that. My eyes blink open as his weight settles beside me on the bed, looking down at me he smiles so sweetly, despite everything I push my own in return, and pathetically decide to leave the Kyle part until last. 

Craig Tucker is emotionless and expressionless alike, right? For the most part I’d agree, there’s exceptions, but that’s the rule. But not to Tweek, never to Tweek actually. From the first moment we began hanging out he’d seemingly just been able to read me, in a way I hadn’t been expecting or prepared for, it took me entirely by surprise. Now as he looks down at me his eyebrows crease a little, smile falling as he studies my face.   
“Ngh! Wh-what’s wrong?”  
Nipping at my bottom lip I swallow and sigh. I don’t want to do this, any of it. But I have too, it’s inevitable; yet still I try to stall. Again I’m attempting to buy time, though I know it isn’t for sale; at best I can hope to rent some and delay. “I-I missed you, I didn’t have my phone, I-I didn’t know.” It all sounds pathetic and none of it is good enough. Out of all the times I’ve tried to be there for him, I failed when he actually needed me. With a heavy sigh I let my head hang, “I’m sorry. About your Gran and about not being there. Wh-what happened?”

Watching his face crumble with a pained expression as he began to explain, she’d had a heart attack, they had to clear the house and organise the funeral. Sure they weren’t overly close but this still fucking sucks. I know that logically there is nothing I can actually say or do to lessen this pain. That doesn’t stop me from wishing I’d been there to at least try from when it started. Pushing self annoyance aside and holding back a sigh of self directed frustration, I instead use by good arm to pull him down beside me, squeezing him against me. His breath against my neck, limbs entwined in mine, entire body is twitching. Before long I can feel wet against my neck, a lump forms in my throat, hand moving to trace familiar patterns on his back in aims of helping him calm down. And slowly he does, glancing to my alarm clock I watch minutes pass, and for once I’m thankful for each one, just the fact that he’s in my arms. Just under twenty minutes later his shaking has stopped, breathing slowed, and having assisted in this I feel like the most privileged guy in the whole fucking world. Hell, the whole universe; I’m spaceman fucking Craig. 

Pulling back a little, a small blush coating his cheeks, he seems to be considering what he’s about to say. This of course has me intrigued instantaneously, eyebrow raising but remaining silent to give him time.   
“I-I ugh! I don’t know why, but I went to the clearing last night. Uhh our clearing!”  
His volume has me wincing a little, in aims of grounding him I reach for his hand, caressing his fingers softly. And though his blush grows it appears to work.   
“I-I guess I just hoped you’d be there. Then when you weren’t I tried to name the stars. But it was overcast, they were hidden. The stars were missing, just like you. And suddenly I felt weaker than I have in a long time.”  
The words hit me like a ton of bricks, I knew I’d failed him but fuck hearing it hurts more than I’d prepared for. Head hanging with a small sigh I manage to stutter ‘I’m sorry’, yet as his finger presses against my lips, silencing me, I’m forced to reevaluate.   
“B-but that’s wrong! I know that. Y-you made me realise how strong I am. But you didn’t make me strong.”  
Oh. Well damn that actually makes a lot of sense. I’ve been giving myself far too much credit.   
“Then seeing you today, s-so broken.. Craig, p-please tell me what happened?”  
His finger trails down my chin until his hand cups my face, raising it and forcing me to meet his eyes. His confused, concerned, caring eyes; I can’t refuse him. 

My mind buzzes with flashes of memories, I’m still running the meter on my rented time; I know what I’m starting with, and as such flashes of both Tweek and Cartman’s alternates play out. Realising I need time to figure out how to word this, I nod, letting him know I am going to answer. Squeezing my eyes closed I give up, pathetic I know, and accept the fact that there is no rational way to start this. Instead I just dive straight in, knowing full well this will most probably have disastrous consequences in terms of him freaking out. But as he said, he is strong. I don’t like to play things down to him, set his limits for him. It’s not my place to decide what he can or cannot handle, he’ll stop me if he truly thinks he can’t. So, reluctantly, I begin my explanation, intent on continuing until, or if, he asks me not too.


	54. Chapter 54

“Another me?! Oh Jesus Christ! Gah! What if I’m not me?!”  
I expected it, yet the high pitched yell and ferocity with which he tugs at his hair have me reacting none the less. Reaching out I try to ease the tangled digits from his hair, however try is the key word, “you are you.” His eyes harden a little as they find mine again.   
“H-how can you know that?!”  
I keep our stares locked as my mouth opens, yet no words come, instead I search my mind. How did I know? The bruises were missing, he was just different. I couldn’t read him. There’s a hundred potential answers to that question. None of which seem right. “I don’t know how I know. But I do. Just like I knew he wasn’t you.”  
The hardness dissolves leaving panic again in the forefront. Chewing nervously on my bottom lip I pause, I read him, then continue. He is freaking the fuck out yes, but he’s not giving in to it. Tweek Tweak is the fucking strongest person I know. 

As I’d continued the story I’d been hit with the futility of my actions. Believing I’d been on the right track to finding him I’d pushed everything else aside. If I’d focused on simply finding my phone I’d have found him simultaneously. Fucking irony. I didn’t even have to be involved in all this shit, could’ve just left Kyle and Stan to it. But that’s not entirely true I suppose, I’d be lying if I tried to say I hadn’t felt at least some level of.. I don’t know, obligation? Towards his alternate. Regardless as to the fact he wasn’t my Tweek, he was a form of Tweek. Trailing off I finally drop his stare as the story comes to a close with headlights in the focus, I can’t watch his reaction to the moment the car hit. Which leaves the story in limbo, in terms of the alternates I mean; we know where I ended up. With tightly shut eyes my brow creases, because within my mind Kenny’s voice sounds.   
“It worked. It wasn’t easy but Kyle talked Tweek through the vortex. He didn’t want to leave you. I dunno what Kyle said but it got through to him, knowing Kyle probably some shit about how it’d be what you wanted. They got rid of the fatass too.”  
Within my chest my heart is beating frantically as if in a bid to escape. What the fuck? How? When? Images from my forgotten earlier dream resurface, his face smirking at me.   
“I can’t die.”  
“Holy shit!”  
Tweek’s astounded voice pulls me back, shaking the image from my mind like an Etchosketch as my eyes return to him, neither of us having any words left. 

Cuddled into his side everything should feel right, especially now we both know what the fuck the other has been doing. But it isn’t, I’m far from relaxed. Because there’s more I need to say, I really don’t fucking want to. My memory reminds me that Kyle isn’t telling Stan; my morals remind me the Tweek deserves to know. Since laying here I’ve rented a further eleven minutes, but they’re tainted, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. Time cannot be brought, time rented seldom brings relief. Yet still here I am fighting the fucking inevitable like a coward. Pathetic. Biting down hard on my bottom lip I take a deep breath, inhaling his scent; the darker voice in my mind tells me that this’ll be the last time: I need to savour it. The voice could be right, only one way to find out. “Tweek, something else happened.” The words tumbled out clumsily, my cheeks igniting in the process. Beneath me his body tenses as I raise my head to look up at him. Questioning eyes find mine, I want to look away, to backtrack, to just fucking kiss him instead. But I don’t. I don’t deserve that and neither does he, “Kyle tried to kiss me-“  
“What?!”  
As his body sits bolt upright I tumble aside with a groan, I wasn’t finished but right now I need to focus on getting up to his level, god having only one useable hand is a pain in the ass.   
“Kyle?! What? When? Why?! Wait! What did you do?!”  
The last question lands like a slap as I finally reach his level and reclaim his eyes. As my mouth opens my breath catches, cheeks flushing as my eyes betray me long before words can. His face is already falling before I begin, “I-I didn’t ‘do’ anything, I didn’t stop him. B-but it didn’t happen.. because Kenny walked in.” As his eyes harden I can’t hold their gaze anymore, shame is burning through me. I’m a fucking piece of shit. 

“Oh how fucking convenient! I guess that’s okay then!”  
He scoffs, swallowing hard I shake my head, “n-no, I know it isn’t. I-I don’t even know why it happened. I was a mess, I just went there to talk.. Tweek I’m so sorry.” It’s the truth, but it only serves to further prove how pathetic I really am. His eyes are burning holes into me, arms firmly crossed against his chest as his legs shake. Fuelled with desperation I search his face, but there’s too much to read, too many mixed emotions and no clear winner. “I-I didn’t plan this.. I don’t want Kyle.”  
“Love doesn’t come with a plan Craig!”  
His venomous words fill the air, then a memory of a dream replays in my mind and I brace for the remaining two: ‘it’s over.’ Yet instead silence follows, well silence other than his teeth which are grinding, and Stripe who is blissfully unaware.   
“I can’t believe you did that..”  
All breath leaves me at the hurt in his voice, I want to beg for forgiveness, but I don’t deserve it.   
“And I can’t believe he did that! Gah! H-he knows we’re together!”  
Blinking a little I open my mouth, but I can’t argue with that. Instead I sigh, “that doesn’t change what I d-“  
As his palm slaps my cheek I’m cut off, instead letting out a yelp, which is followed by one of his and the weight of his body springing from the bed.   
“Oh shit! You have a concussion! What if I’ve killed you!? Oh fuck don’t die! Craig you can’t die! Oh my god I’ve killed my boyfriend!”  
Though my mind is spinning and my vision is blurry I can’t curb the smirk pulling at my lips. Maybe everything will be okay? “So, I’m still your boyfriend?”

My voice halts his freak out, pulls him back to me and allows him to re-asses the severity of his action. Yet as he begins to frown my smirk slips. For fuck sake Craig; don’t make jokes now. My question still hangs in the air, tension so thick you could cut it with a spoon. Until all fight leaves his body and he seemingly deflates, once again lowering himself to sit on the bed, hands pushing into his hair and tugging.  
“Y-yeah I guess it does. But you’re on thin fucking ice man!”  
Blush growing I manage to somewhat suppress my smile as I nod quickly. Anything. Whatever he wants as long as he’s mine. Sighing heavily he looks to me again.   
“Tell me exactly what happened to make that happen.”  
Surprised I blink a little as I nod slowly, reaching back into my mind. What had been the catalyst? The thing which had sent me to Kyle’s in the first place; the cause of my meltdown? After all Craig Tucker isn’t known for crying. Very few people hold enough space in my heart to provoke that kind of reaction, and the one in this instance was Token Black. 

My explanation of events before I’d gone over to Kyle’s leaves Tweek speechless. Understandable completely given I’m also talking about one of his best friends. Even replaying the events and the last words I’d uttered to him has given my voice an edge I don’t like. I’d left it up to him to decide if our paths should cross again, thus far he’s rejected the invitation. Fuck I miss him, more than I’d ever admit out loud. However given that Tweek is currently lost for words I allow my memory to continue. Of course Tweek’s absence had also been a primary cause of distress, as I recall this he looks away, embarrassed possibly? The one other reason? As of yet I’ve left out, if for no other reason than I don’t want him to blame himself for it. However he’s asked me to to tell him what led me there, and I’ve promised myself to leave it up to him to stop me. Swallowing I too avert my gaze. “And uh, well I couldn’t go home. My dad, well, he flipped his shit after dragging me home. Um, punched me. So I’d mostly been staying at Clyde’s” trailing of I sigh feeling pathetic again. I fail to see how any of this matters in regards to what I did. His breath catches, hand flying to his mouth, cringing a little I blush glancing back to him.   
“S-so that’s why no one was here when I dropped off your phone and wallet?”  
Swallowing hard, I fight to keep my face neutral and nod. 

After consideration his eyebrow raises questioningly.   
“A-and when you got there?”  
I guess we aren’t done. Squeezing my eyes closed and scrunching my nose I sigh softly. Up until now I’ve though near constantly about the repercussions of the event, yet until now I’ve not given any detailed thought to the event itself. I still don’t want to. Groaning softly I shrug, “so when I got there I was a mess, only just holding it together. And hell he’s been a mess too. He asked if I was okay and I lost it, I cried.” My cheeks burn hotter as surprise flashes through his eyes. “So he hugged me and then the next thing I knew it was happening.” Trailing off I sigh softly locking our eyes. “It meant nothing. Except maybe that we were both a mess.” Interlocked stares allow us to communicate without words, he can see I genuinely mean that; I can see that he believes me. I’ve got a lot to fucking prove, but I think we can fix this. His eyes soften for a moment before I practically see his mind flip the switch to overdrive and our connection is lost as his eyes squeeze shut in concentration.   
“W-well, it doesn’t sound like Kyle was a mess. It sounds like he took advantage of the situation!”   
Well fuck, I hadn’t been prepared for that. Slightly dumbstruck I don’t particularly agree, but I also know better than to argue with him over it now. 

Both now laying back on the bed I bite the bullet, attempt to breach the gap between us, and reach for his hand. As our fingers interlock he lets out a small squeak, and slowly I turn my head to look at him. “I love you. You know that right?”  
His eyes bore into mine for a moment before he sighs softly and nods.   
“I know. I love you too.”   
Testing the waters I lean up slowly with a groan and press my lips to his, feeling the shiver run out through him and down my spine. The kiss starts soft, gentle, yet quickly turns what could easily become a battle for dominance, if that is I hadn’t been so willing to let him win. As our positions shift and I feel his weight upon me everything feels right, the groan that tumbles from my mouth as his lips leave mine to trail down my jaw and neck are no longer from pain, but pleasure. The noise seems to spur him on, his body pressing tighter to mine, yet taking care to avoid my ribs this time, hips grinding down against me as he leaves a fresh mark on my already blemished skin. Only as he finishes his task does he kiss the purple mark muttering ‘mine’. Yes I am.


	55. Chapter 55

Goosebumps erupt over my skin, breath catching as the scene plays out again. There’s a scream caught in my throat as I turn to run, yet headlights floods the area, blinding me; forcing me to look back. Unlike my own stifled scream, Kenny’s rings piercingly through the air. Once again I turn to run, but the lights are closer, the figure behind the windshield familiar, I’m trapped; stuck in some inescapable torturous nightmare. Out of further options I squeeze my eyes closed, and in the next second I feel like I’m falling. Flicking my eyes back open everything is different, I’m no longer in the pet store, it’s day time and the headlights are gone. Instead I’m sat on Tweek’s bed, the boy opposite me is obviously distressed, which of course immediately has me concerned. Yet all too soon my concern is flipped for confusion as I realise that I’ve heard this before. He’s told me this story before. Did I actually fall? Through time?  
“Th-they killed him Craig! You’ve gotta believe me! Why doesn’t anyone believe me?!”  
My stomach sinks further still as I remember fully, I’d acted the part, said the right things, but I hadn’t really believed him. Shit, is this real?

Only as I try to focus on the boy before me his words fade away, the scene behind him is no longer his room, but again it’s somewhere I recognise. Not because I’ve been here before, but because I’ve had this conversation before, heard him describe this before. As I begin instead focusing on the details behind him, his bodily vision vanishes. And instead I’m watching the scene as if I’m in it, only no one else seems to realise that I’m here. Blinking, almost in disbelief, I watch as Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Kenny and Tweek follow a fucking gnome into a tree. However by now actual disbelief is long gone, and with a sigh I follow after them. My eyes widen to the size of saucepans as I look around, seeing the Underpants Gnome’s ‘village’ in far more detail than I ever remember Tweek having given me. Following the familiar voices I make my way through, keeping my distance behind them as I listen to the gnome we’ve been following attempt to explain business. Only as he continues, yet manages not to explain anything, I find myself beginning to panic, eyes darting around the room, I know how this story ends. Kenny dies. Shit it wasn’t until Tweek next saw him, in real life I mean, that I was able to convince him that it was a fucking nightmare. But I’m starting to suspect that it wasn’t, somehow I’ve fallen through time; through memories.   
“Jesus Christ! Look out!”  
My stomach practically does a backflip as my eyes dart to the source of the yell from above, just in time to see the cart begin to tumble through the air, time around me seems to slow as it falls, my mind screams at me to move, push him aside, save him; my body is locked in place. Given this isn’t currently happening, there’s little I could actually do anyway. At least that what I tell myself as it crushes Kenny before my eyes, I’d swear I feel his blood hit my skin; I promptly squeeze them firmly closed. 

““Fine I’ll tell you, you won’t remember anyway. No one ever does.”  
As the deeper voice of modern day Kenny sounds I slowly blink my eyes back open, looking around in confusion; searching for him. Again I recognise my surroundings, hardly surprising really, I spent far too much time at South Park Elementary. A frown sets in as I glance around seeing my classmates, we’re on the stage? Why the fuck are we on the stage?  
“Timmy!”  
Blinking to my right I groan as Timmy appears from the wing dressed as a woman. That fucking Helen Mirrin play, shit I thought my memory had blocked out this shit. Only the all too familiar stiring begins in my stomach, and ignoring the prepubescent voices surrounding me I search out Kenny. Swallowing my gaze rises to above him as the memory releases more details. The stage light hanging is going to fall. I know it is, I don’t know how but I do. And as Cartman moves the messed up Turkey to where he assumes the light will hit, his voice trails off, and the light drops. Once again Kenny dies right before my eyes. 

“I can’t die.”  
Again his voice has age to it, nothing makes any fucking sense anymore. Though did it ever really make all that much to begin with? By this point I’m noticing he only speaks to me when my eyes are closed; that upon opening them grizzly visions await me. Chewing on my bottom lip I resolve to simply refuse to open them any further. Instead I keep them squeezed firmly shut, remaining defiant even as Kenny’s laughter fills my head. “Fuck off asshole!” For a second he seems to comply, laughter fading away to silence, but then a new voice sounds. A voice I know almost as well as my own, Clyde’s.   
“Hey, I'm not fat, you guys. I'm just kind of big-boned.”  
For a split second a smirk pulls at my lips, I don’t need to open my eyes to know where I am now. This day is imprinted firmly in my memory, the day I started teasing Clyde about his weight. Hell the others opened the door, I just broke the lock over the years. It’s an even jive anyway, he’s always been quick enough to respond with remarks about my own skinny frame in return. Running my hand down my face I frown in concentration as I search my memory. I remember this, and nothing bad happened. So why the fuck am I here. Against my better judgement and with a heavy frustrated sigh I relent. Let Kenny fucking win; and open my eyes. 

“So I don't get to be on the team now?”  
“Shut up fatass!”  
The scene is the same, the day is different. I mean I remember Clyde never ended up on the sleigh, just not why. This just gets fucking weirder, hell knows I haven’t taken enough fucking drugs to explain this level of memory loss; and apparently also return. Scanning the scene my eyes land on said sleigh, Kyle and Stan are sat together upon it, at the rear sits a large concrete slab. Common sense allows me to piece together this missing memory together before it plays out. And the second Kenny lets go of the sleigh, jumping on as it begins it’s decent I squeeze my eyes closed, willing this to end. The vision is gone, yet the sounds remain, and this time I hear Kenny die. 

“The worst part? Nobody even remembers me dying.”  
Guilt stabs at me, shaking my head I find my voice. “No!” I’m done with this bullshit. Why me? Why the fuck do I have to see this? Show his fucking friends instead! I’m done. So fucking done. Talk all you want asshole, I’m not opening my eyes!” His sadistic laughter returns, because of course it fucking does. Then the visions begin playing like a fucking film reel in quick succession. Apparently it no longer matter that my eyes are open or closed. Like it or not? I’m going to watch this. Syphilis? Asphyxiation? Shot, stabbed, hit by fucking cars? I see it all. 

Light spills through the curtains, stinging at my eyes as I blink them open looking around. I’m back in my room, Tweek’s arm looped around my waist, holding me against him. Anchoring me to the moment if you like; I’m safe. With a sigh, and several groans, I roll to face him, pressing my forehead to his chest to listen to his steady breathing as he sleeps. Each of my senses has been invaded and conquered by him, so why is the voice at the back of my mind saying Kenny’s name? With a small groan I will it to fuck off, yet instead the memories of my tortured dreams resurface. Finally I seriously consider the idea that Kenny can’t die. Is nonsensical, that much is true, yet given recent events I can hardly declare it impossible. The horrible reality sinks in that if I want answers? Once again I’m going to need Kenny. The universe sure does have a sick sense of humour. 

Reluctantly I’d pulled myself from his sleeping form, the grumbling in my stomach making me aware that I haven’t actually eaten in days. Not without the help of a tube anyway. Unlike Tweek’s house, my own is very rarely well stocked; before I’ve reached the kitchen I’ve already resigned myself to the fact we’ll be simply eating toast this morning. Walking in I find Ruby already half way through a bowl of Fruit Loops, or it’s generic unbranded cousin at least. My mother seeming to have sensed I was in close proximity already has a glass of water and tablet set out.   
“Craig, medication.”  
Groaning I roll my eyes walking over to swallow it, “satisfied?” Letting out a heavy sigh she simply shakes her head a little, waiting until my back is turned to speak again. And fuck I’m grateful.   
“No. Craig I- I told you. The doctor said no strenuous activity.”   
Oh fuck, she heard us last night? My face is on fire, knuckles whitening as I grip the sideboard. Well isn’t that just fucking fantastic. “I-I didn’t-“ the words are barely out of my mouth when she cuts me off.   
“I know what sex sounds like Craig.”   
Oh god did she have to say it like that? Gross. Attempting to at least pretend I’ve kept my cool I merely nod in response, focusing instead on making Tweek’s coffee. Fuck the toast, fruit will do, it’s quicker. 

As soon as I’d been able to I’d exited, though by then I’m pretty sure pure embarrassment was pumping through my veins. Pausing outside my room I take deep breaths, sighing at our pathetic meal: two bananas and one orange. Better than nothing right? Exhaling heavily I push inside, the light from the now open curtains is illuminating his sleepy face, allowing me to fully witness it light up at the sight of me. Though as I make my way over the first thing he reaches for is actually the coffee, so I guess it could’ve been that he was reacting too. In this moment I decide the embarrassment is mine alone, he doesn’t need to know that she knows. And for the foreseeable future I intend to focus solely on the two most important guys in my life, Tweek and Stripe.

Of course, as always my peace is short lived, and after nuzzling the top of Stripe’s head softly I reluctantly set him back in his cage upon the knock at my bedroom door. Who the fuck is that? Grumbling to myself I make my way over, pulling the door open with a raised eyebrow. Kyle? Our eyes meet, before his drop down a little, is.. is he surveying my chest? Suddenly I’m very aware that I’m shirtless. Heat begins to spread across my cheeks as a frown sets in, my mostly functioning arm making a feeble attempt to wrap around me and cover some skin. I’m beyond uncomfortable, it’s pretty fucking clear, yet instead of taking note of that he reaches out, finger grazing gently over one of my many bruises.   
“Holy shit Craig.”   
Out of instinct I step back a little from his touch, finally his eyes return to my face, and my expression is enough to have him blushing now too. 

Were it just the two of us? I’d have put on a damn shirt and pretended it never happened; because let’s face it I wish it hadn’t. I have no idea why he thinks it’s okay to touch me, I’ve spent our entire school life ensuring people know that it isn’t. But whatever. As it turns out it wasn’t just the two of us, Tweek’s startled scream lets out from the doorway of the bathroom. Oh what perfect fucking timing, thank you so much. Opening and closing my mouth I look between them pair of them, that didn’t look good. Kyle looks slightly confused, Tweek? Well he’s readily closing the gap with a face like thunder. My mouth opens to speak, but he beats me to is, words firing from his own with force, in the same moment his arm pulls back, squeezing my eyes closed I grimace a little at the crunching sound of Kyle’s nose under his fist.   
“Don’t touch my Craig!”  
A small groan tumbled from my lips, I knew it was coming; that doesn’t make it any better. On the other hand hearing him claim me as his own has me unable to suppress a slight smirk. Kyle stumbles backwards holding his reddened nose, there’s no blood though; lucky bastard. Only as he lets it go I see something fresh in his eyes. I can’t read Kyle; not properly. Or at least not in the way I’m able to read Tweek. But in this instance I see the rage, his own arm retracts before Tweek realises, so instead I move between them, and being caught in the crossfire I take yet another hit to the head. Yelping in what I can only say constitutes an embarrassingly high tone I crumble sideways to the wall holding my once again throbbing head, “if people could stop hitting me that would be fucking fantastic!” 

Within seconds Tweek is shrieking, at my side and checking me over. Kyle is opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish, apologising; well partially, in the sense he wasn’t aiming for me at least. I suspect he’s chalked Tweek’s reaction up to his usual nervous nature, however as his apologies trail off I practically see the light go on inside his head.   
“Oh shit. Y-you had a concussion didn’t you?”  
Nodding a little I grimace as I stand fully again, “yeah, thanks for remembering.”  
Suddenly he looks terrified.   
“Oh god, are you okay?! Shit that could be really bad.”  
Rolling my eyes I sigh shaking my head, “it’s not. And that not the first hit I’ve taken since. Chill out, you don’t hit that hard. Besides you guys hear the ringing too right?”  
Kyle’s face only drops further, Tweek beside me goes rigid letting out a panicked gasp, looking down to him I reveal my small smirk, earning myself a light slap to the arm.   
“That’s not funny Craig!”  
Pouting a little I feign pain at the slap before chuckling a little nodding, “yes dear. Though on a serious note, can we sit down?”   
Quickly he nods leading me past a seemingly still confused Kyle, and over to sit on the edge of my bed. Leaning to kiss his cheek softly I mutter thanks, before blushing a little as Kyle somewhat awkwardly walks in after us. Glancing to the floor I see Tweek’s shirt from the night before, and as quickly as my limited movement will allow I pull it on. 

Satisfied I’m not in any actual immediate danger, Tweek turns, returning his attention to Kyle. The deep frown setting in his brow lets me know that nothing either of us can say or do right now will change anything. The wound is too fresh, he’s neither ready to forget nor forgive.   
“What are you doing here Kyle?!”  
If the look on Kyle’s face is anything to go by, then the tone of Tweek’s voice takes him by surprise. Sighing softly I reach across the bed for my lovers hand, squeezing it softly in an attempt to ground him. It isn’t until after he’s witnessed this interaction, that Kyle answers.   
“I just came to see him. To see if he was okay? After the accident I mean. And uh, well to tell him what happened.”  
Squeezing again I try to fight back any further reddening of my cheeks, though I doubt I’m successful. Letting out a frustrated sigh Tweek finally squeezes back, I take this to mean that he’s still pissed, incredibly so, but he considers that an acceptable request. So I guess I should answer. 

Giving him a brief description of my injuries I trail off with a shrug, allowing him space to speak. However as he explains the events which took place after I’d left, I feel I already know them. I’ve been told before. Hell, squeezing my eyes closed out of confusion, I swear I can hear a similar version of these events in Kenny’s voice, circling my mind. Only, Kyle hasn’t mentioned Kenny. I killed Kenny; and Kyle hasn’t even fucking mentioned it? I call bullshit.   
“Nobody even remembers me dying.”  
This time his voice comes through so clearly I need to scan the room, just to check he isn’t here. But of course he isn’t, it’s just in my head. Deep in thought I’m no longer even listening, and when I speak it’s entirely without intention. “What about Kenny?” Both pairs of eyes land on me with equally confused stares before Kyle shrugs.   
“I uh, I dunno. I think we lost him when we all ran outside after that vortex showed up.”  
Wrong. That isn’t why we ran. Holy shit he really doesn’t remember anything. By now my heart is thumping against my ribs with such force that I can only assume it’s attempting to escape. The options are: Kenny really can’t die, this is all some fucked up side effect of brain trauma, or i truly have gone insane. Regardless I know better than to voice these right now; no, I need to talk to Kenny. 

Having come to the end of the story Kyle let’s out a small sigh, seemingly unsurprised at my lack of reaction. Though to be fair I suppose that’s what I’m known for. Instead he glances between Tweek and I chewing his lip before again settling his gaze on me.   
“I uhh, I’m guessing you told him?”   
A small growl leaves the blonde beside me as I nod in response. Hanging his head Kyle let’s out a heavy sigh nodding to himself before looking to Tweek.   
“Right.. shit. Tweek, I’m sorry. Seriously sorry. It was stupid and shouldn’t have happened. He isn’t who I want, I promise.”  
The snort Tweek lets out in response screams ‘bullshit’, and with a shake of his head his eyes harden.   
“Maybe you should just go Kyle.”

It wasn’t a question, the tone of his voice gave that away, and has left Kyle blinking in surprise. Personally I’m not overly shocked, nor am I overly happy about it.   
“But, I need to tell Craig something.”  
My eyebrow raises questioningly as Tweek blinks surprised, frown setting in further still as he lets out a small low growl.   
“W-well say it then.”  
The shake to his voice tells me he isn’t expecting to like what he hears. I’m simply confused, and unlikely to gain answers if Kyle’s ever growing, or glowing if you like, blush is anything to judge by.   
“N-no. Alone.”  
This time the growl from beside me is louder, and followed by a groan of my own as I lock eyes with Kyle, “seriously, anything I need to know, I’ll tell him anyway.” Beside me I feel Tweek sit a little straighter, without looking at him I can feel the smirk on his face. Kyle on the other hand looks wide eyed and panicked, letting out a clearly frustrated sigh before shaking his head.   
“Whatever. Forget it. I guess I really should go.”


	56. Chapter 56

And just like that he stayed true to his word, exiting my room leaving me blinking in his wake. What the fuck was that about? With a heavy sigh I rub my temple with my good hand before dropping backward to lay down; Tweek stays put. First I notice his fingers tapping frantically upon his leg, that’s never a good sign, raising my gaze to his face I grimace a little at the ferocity with which he’s chewing at his lip. His somewhat glazed eyes let me know that he’s spiralling, trapped in his thoughts. Any annoyance and curiosity towards Kyle I’d been focused on disappears, my brow knotting with concern, “Tweek?” I’d started soft as not to startle him, however as I’d predicted he’s too far gone for my first attempt to break through. Increasing my volume I try again, wait for any response, and then repeat. 

“Ngh! I-I don’t want you to see him anymore!”  
His words cut me off, spoken so quickly they run into one another. Replaying it slower in my mind I blink, mouth dropping open a little, “oh?” It’s all I can muster, I feel like I’m missing something. He’s reacting more now than when I told him what had happened between us. Taking in my facial reactions he reads me clearly, my confusion easily picked out to his trained eyes. His hands push into his hair in response, tugging at it hard enough to produce a yelp.  
“Ugh, at least not alone!”  
Pushing to slowly sit up again, I raise my hands letting him know I’m not attempting to argue, in hopes this’ll calm him. Gritting my teeth a little I push my face to a semblance of my usual expression, or I suppose my usual lack of expression, in hopes of fooling him. But he knows me too well. To an untrained eye I’m sure I could’ve passed, flown under the radar and have been dismissed as uninterested, willing to simply comply and let the subject go. Not with Tweek, his eyes bore into mine, searching for the answers I won’t allow my face to give. And of course he finds them; it doesn’t even take a minute. Letting out an annoyed snort he shakes his head.  
“Agh man you really don’t get it do you?! H-he likes you!” 

The dumbfounded expression which is now manipulating my face is all too real. When analysing all the information Tweek has been given I would suppose that this is a reasonable conclusion for him to have come too. Moreover, had my brain been working at its usual speed, I’m would have realised that was what he’d been getting at. As of right now on the other hand, as surprise begins to falter, the slightest of chuckles slips, slicing through silence. His face darkens, and immediately I know I’ve fucked up. Again. Quickly shaking my head I backtrack, “Sorry. Uh just, practically all he talks about is Stan.. and regardless of if they think people know or not, they’re at least fooling around.” His frown deepens, though now through confusion rather than anger, with a soft sigh I reach up and attempt to untangle his fingers from his hair. I’m not fond of demands, don’t usually take well to being told what I can and can’t do. Hell, even now the stubborn part of my brain is fighting me on this. The rational part wins out, right now? I suppose Tweek has every right to be making demands, with a deep breath I nod, agreeing somewhat reluctantly. “It’s okay. I won’t see him alone.”

The instant the words leave my lips his body relaxes, with a deep exhale he turns his head, his uncertain eyes finding mine. Once he’s reassured that I’m being sincere a smile tugs at the corner of his lips, causing his whole face to light up, and forcing a smile of my own in return. Leaning towards his lips press to mine.  
“Agh, r-really?”  
Nodding I break away for a moment to look at him. “Yes. Hell I don’t need to see him alone anyway.” His grin grows larger still as his lips crash back to mine, only this time our noses collide, once again the moment is broken by my pain; my grimace. I’m already sick of this. I’d been ready to continue and ignore the pain as best I could, Tweek of course on the other hand freaked out jumping back.  
“S-Sorry!”  
Sighing softly I shake my head, offering him a small smile as I lay back on the bed; seconds later he’s beside me. As our arms wrap around each other I allow my eyes to squeeze closed, and lose myself in the moment; as if paused in time. 

Only heavy breathing fills the air, entangled limbs linking us; there is no longer any need for words. My entire being seems to hum with contentment, I could remain here forever would time permit. Of course it doesn’t, his shrill ring tone takes us both by surprise. Within seconds he removes himself from me, tumbling from the bed to the floor in search of his jeans, and with them the noises source. Letting my eyes slip closed I breathe out a frustrated huff, the illusion is shattered; time caught up. Doesn’t it always?

It was his mom, or boss depending on how you wanted to look at it. Regardless the call had signalled his departure, after all the coffee won’t serve itself. Left alone with my thoughts I seem to be trapped in a loop. With a disgruntled groan I push up to my feet, it’s no use fighting it anymore; I need to talk to Kenny. Fuck, what is the world coming too where I’ve gotten to this point? Still grumbling I slowly redress myself and push my feet into my shoes to start downstairs, figuring that the sooner I do this the sooner it’ll be over. Luckily my mother is currently at work so I’m able to walk out of the front door without another bed rest argument, pushing my hands into my pockets I suddenly remember the mess that is my face; deciding to keep my head down, watching my feet slap against the concrete. 

I’m a little over half way there when the buzz from my pocket pulls my attention, I’d been trying and failing to think of something to say; really it’s a welcome distraction. Only as Kyle’s name flashes across the screen I suddenly feel uneasy, I still believe Tweek’s worries to be misplaced, however they do echo in my mind. With a sigh I open the message, it hits out like a slap, rooting me to the spot. Jaw hanging open as I blink down at the words on the screen, I can feel my face paling. Inhaling deeply I try to swallow, but my mouth is too dry, my mind spiralling. Tweek’s worries have completely left as my own questions flood my thoughts.  
‘I saw who was driving.’  
My mind and body both are practically screaming for me to change course, screw talking to Kenny, I want fucking answers. But I can’t. To go to Kyle’s now would be a complete disregard to my earlier promise. Pushing my hand through my hair I groan out frustratedly, earning an odd look from the woman across the street. Meeting her stare I flip her off, my own eyes rolling as she quickly scuttles away. Grumbling to myself I continue towards my original destination, telling Kyle to meet me there. With any fucking luck I can kill two birds with one stone. 

With a heavy sigh I raise my hand to knock on the beaten up front door. My mind is still spiralling with thoughts, but I need to keep them focused on my present task: Kenny. Ew, I seem to come here far too much nowadays. Turning to look around I’m relieved to find that the streets are fairly bare; at least I beat Kyle here. The sound of hinges squeaking as the door pulls open has me redirecting my gaze, surprise registers on Kenny’s face followed by a smirk, rolling my eyes I flip him off in response, pushing past him to walk inside.  
“What are you doing here?”  
Christ, I swear you can even hear his fucking sneer at me being here. Not wanting to indulge him I simply shrug a little as I turn to face him; besides the fact that he doesn’t know probably gives me the upper hand. “I could ask you the same thing.” His famous smirk falters as confusion crosses his face briefly.  
“I live here, where the fuck else am I supposed to be?”  
Squeezing my eyes closed I take a breath, once I’ve done this I can’t take it back. Certainty is fading as I allow myself to ponder outcomes. Screw it, now or never right? Here goes nothing. Picking up where I left off, once again I shrug keeping my eyes trained to his. “I was under the illusion that you were supposed to be dead.”


End file.
